I 


LITERARY  ASSOCIATION, 


-J^-.AJ  J  ^H 


REFLECTIONS 


POLITICS  OF  ANCIENT  GREECE. 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  CERMAF  QF 


ARNOLD   H.   L.  HEEREN 


BY  GEORGE  BANCROFT. 


BOSTON : 

PI/BUSHED  BY  CUMM1NGS,  BILLIARD  &  CO. 

University  Prwi-Hilliard  &  Metcalf. 
1824. 


DISTRICT  OF  MASSACHUSETTS,  TO  WIT  : 

Dittrict  Clerk1*  Office. 

BE  it  remembered,  that  on  the  second  day  of  February,  A.  D.  1824,  and  in  the  forty- 
eighth  ye«r  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of  America,  Cummings,  Hilliard 
&  Co.  of  the  said  district  na»e  deposited  in  this  office  the  title  of  a  book,  the  right  whereof 
they  claim  as  proprietors,  in  the  words  following,  to  \vit : 

Reflections  on  the  Politics  of  Ancient  Greece.  Translated  from  the  German  of  Arnold 
H.  L.  Heeren  by  George  Bancroft. 

In  conformity  to  the  »ct  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  entitled  "  An  act  for  the 
encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the 
authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies  during  the  times  therein  mentioned ;"  and  also  to 
an  net,  entitled  "  An  act  supplementary  to  an  act,  entitled  '  An  act  for  the  encouragement 
of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  mapi,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors 
of  such  copies,  during  the  tun  -s  therein  mentioned,'  and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to 
the  arts  or  designing,  engraving,  and  etching  historical  and  other  prints." 

JOHV  W.  DAVIS,   j 


TO 

SAMUEL  ATKINS  ELIOT, 
THIS  TRANSLATION  IS  INSCRIBED, 

WITH  SINCERE  AFFECTION, 
BY  HIS 

FELLOW-STUDENT  AND  FRIEND, 

GEORGE  BANCROFT. 


rJ'.'O ui»xv iflttif »ji a  >   c .' 

jiosTtj 

THE  TRANSLATOR'S 


THE  volume  of  which  a  translation  is  here  offered  to  the 
public,  forms  in  the  original  a  portion  of  an  extensive  work, 
entitled,  "  Reflections  on  the  Politics,  Intercourse,  and  Com- 
merce of  the  chief  Nations  of  Antiquity."  Mr  Heeren  has 
accomplished  his  design  only  with  respect  to  the  nations  of 
Asia  and  Africa.  On  those  of  Europe,  he  has  published 
nothing  further  than  the  present  series  of  essays,  which  relate 
solely  to  subjects  connected  with  the  political  institutions  of 
the  Greeks,  and  may  be  regarded  as  an  independent  collec- 
tion of  historical  sketches. 

It  is  on  that  larger  work  that  the  literary  reputation  of  Mr 
Heeren  primarily  depends.  With  respect  to  the  Asiatic  and 
African  nations,  he  has  discussed  his  subject  in  its  full  extent, 
and  furnishes  a  more  distinct  account  of  their  ancient  condi- 
tion, than  has  perhaps  been  given  by  any  other  writer.  Ear- 
ly in  life  he  was  led  to  consider  the  history  of  the  world  as 
influenced  by  colonial  establishments  and  commerce  ;  and 
the  results  of  his  investigations,  in  a  department  of  science  to 
which  he  is  enthusiastically  attached,  and  to  which  he  has 
uninterruptedly  devoted  the  most  precious  years  of  a  long  life, 
are  communicated  in  the  elaborate  production  which  we  have 
named. 

In  that  portion  which  relates  to  Asia,  after  considering  the 
character  of  the  continent  itself,  he  first  treats  of  the  Persians, 
giving  a  geographical  and  statistical  account  of  their  ancient 
empire,  their  form  of  government,  the  rights  and  authority  of 
their  kings,  the  administration  of  their  provinces,  and  their 
military  resources. 


VI  PREFACE. 

The  Phoenicians  next;,  pass  in  review;  and  a  sketch  is 
given  of  their  internal  condition  and  government,  their  colo- 
nies and  foreign  possessions,  their  commerce,  their  manufac- 
tures and  inland  trade. 

The  country  and  nation  of  the  Babylonians,  and  their 
commerce,  form  the  next  subjerts  of\:onsideration. 

The  Scythians  are  then  delineated,  and  a  geographical 
survey  of  their  several  tribes  is  naturally  followed  by  an 
inquiry  into  the  commerce  and  intercourse  of  the  nations 
which  inhabited  the  middle  of  Asia. 

In  treating  of  India,  it  was  necessary  to  consider  with  care- 
ful criticism,  the  knowledge  which  still  remains  to  us  of  that 
distant  country,  and  to  collect  such  fragments  of  information 
as  can  be  found  respecting  its  earliest  history,  political  con- 
stitution, and  commerce.  The  Indians  are  the  most  remote 
Asiatic  nation  which  had  an  influence  on  the  higher  culture 
of  the  ancient  world,  and  with  them  the  division  which  treats 
of  Asia  is  terminated. 

To  the  lover  of  studies  connected  with  antiquity, 
the  history  of  the  African  nations  possesses  the  deepest 
interest.  Beside  the  physical  peculiarities  of  this  singu- 
lar part  of  the  globe,  the  Carthaginians  present  the  most 
remarkable  example  of  the  wealth  and  power  which  a  state 
may  acquire  by  commerce  alone ;  and  at  the  same  time,  it 
shows  most  forcibly  the  changes  to  which  such  a  state  is 
exposed,  when  the  uncertainty  of  its  resources  is  increased  by 
a  want  of  the  higher  virtues,  of  valour,  faith,  and  religion. 
In  Egypt,  on  the  other  hand,  the  vast  antiquity  of  its  political 
institutions,  the  veil  of  uncertainty  which  hangs  over  its  early 
condition,  connected  with  the  magnificence  of  its  monuments, 
that  have,  as  it  were,  been  discovered  within  the  recollection 
of  our  contemporaries,  all  serve  to  render  that  country  a  most 
interesting  subject  of  speculation  and  critical  study. 

The  volume  on  Africa  first  introduces  the  Carthaginians, 
who  had  the  melancholy  fate  of  becoming  famous  only  by 
their  ruin.  Mr  Heeren  discusses  the  condition  of  their  Afri- 


PREFACE.  Vli 

can  territory,  their  foreign  provinces  and  colonies,  their  form 
of  government,  their  revenue,  their  commerce  by  land  and 
by  sea,  their  military  force,  and  lastly  the  decline  and  fall  of 
their  state. 

Before  entering  upon  the  consideration  of  the  Egyptians, 
Mr  Heeren  ascends  the  Nile,  and  presents  us  with  a  geograph- 
ical sketch  of  the  Ethiopian  nations,  an  account  of  the  state 
of  Meroe,  and  of  the  commerce  of  Meroe  and  Ethiopia. 

The  Egyptians  are  then  considered.  A  general  view  of 
their  country  and  its  inhabitants,  its  political  condition  and 
its  commerce, — these  are  the  topics,  under  which  he  treats  of 
that  most  ancient  people.  The  whole  is  concluded  by  an 
analysis  of  the  monuments  which  yet  remain  of  Egyptian 
Thebes. 

These  are  the  subjects  which  are  discussed  in  the  "  Re- 
flections of  Heeren,"  a  work  which  deservedly  holds  a  high 
rank  among  the  best  historical  productions  of  our  age.  The 
volume  on  Greece  is  more  nearly  connected  with  our  asso- 
ciations and  studies,  and  may  serve  as  a  specimen  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  whole  is  executed.  Were  a  version  of  the 
other  parts  to  be  published,  it  would  form  three  octavo  volumes 
somewhat  larger  than  the  present.  Mr  Heeren's  style  is 
uniformly  clear,  and  there  are  few  of  his  countrymen,  whose 
works  so  readily  admit  of  being  translated.  We  may  add, 
there  are  few  so  uniformly  distinguished  for  sound  sense  and 
a  rational  and  liberal  method  of  studying  the  monuments  of 
antiquity.  He  is  entirely  free  from  any  undue  fondness  for 
philosophical  speculations,  but  recommends  himself  by  his 
perspicuity,  moderation,  and  flowing  style. 

The  business  of  translating  is  but  an  humble  one  j  and 
yet  it  may  be  the  surest  method  of  increasing  the  number  of 
good  books  which  are  in  the  hands  of  our  countrymen.  None 
can  be  offered  more  directly  interesting  to  them,  than  those 
which  relate  to  political  institutions.  Holding  as  we  do  our 
destinies  and  our  national  character  and  prosperity  in  our  own 
hands,  it  becomes  us  to  contemplate  the  revolutions  of  gov- 


ernments  ;  to  study  human  nature,  as  exhibited  in  its  grandest 
features  in  the  changes  of  nations  ;  to  consider  not  only  the 
politics  of  the  present  age,  but  gaining  some  firm  ground,  such 
as  history  points  out,  to  observe  with  careful  attention  the 
wrecks  of  other  institutions  and  other  times.  The  present 
volume  may  perhaps  do-  something  to  call  public  attention  to 
the  merits  and  true  character  of  the  ancient  Greeks.  The 
admirers  of  Grecian  eloquence  will  be  pleased  to  find  in  one  of 
the  chapters,  an  outline  of  the  political  career  of  Demosthenes. 
His  reputation  is  there  vindicated  from  the  calumnies  that 
have  so  long  been  heaped  upon  one  of  the  noblest,  most  per- 
severing, most  disinterested  advocates  of  the  cause  of  suffer- 
ing liberty. 

The  Translator  hopes  the  work  will  prove  acceptable  to 
scholars  and  those  who  have  leisure  for  the  study  of  history ; 
and  that  it  will  be  received  by  them  as  an  earnest  of  his  desire 
to  do  something,  however  little  it  may  be,  for  the  advance' 
ment  of  learning  in  our  common  country. 

Northampton,  Massachusetts, 
Dec.  ISth,  1S23. 


ERRATA. 

Page    47,  three  lines  from  top,  for  its  read  their 

"        77,  five      "         "          "          Strides  "  the  ^tridte 

"      133,  ten  lines  from  bottom,  for  poetry  "  the  plastic  art 

"      183,  three  lines  from  top,  for  constitutions  "  constitutions? 

"       «     six        "        "         "        adopted  "  adopted  f 

"      302,  ten        V        "        «         claims  "  chains 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


General  Preliminary  Remarks     -  1 

CHAPTER  FIRST. 
Geographical  View  of  Greece  -  -         15 

CHAPTER  SECOND. 
Earliest  Condition  of  the  Nation  and  its  Branches  -  42 

CHAPTER  THIRD. 
Original  Sources  of  the  Culture  of  the  Greeks  -        49 

CHAPTER  FOURTH, 
The  Heroic  Age.     The  Trojan  War  82 

CHAPTER  FIFTH. 

The  Period  following  the  Heroic  Age.  Emigrations. 
Origin  of  Republican  Forms  of  Government,  and 
their  Character  -  99 

CHAPTER  .SIXTH. 
Homer.     The  Epic  Poets  107 

CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 
Means  of  preserving  the  National  Character  -       125 

CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 
The  Persian  Wars  and  their  Consequences  -  143 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  NINTH. 
Constitutions  of  the  Grecian  States     -  159 

CHAPTER  TENTH. 
The  Political  Economy  of  the  Greeks      -  185 

CHAPTER  ELEVENTH. 
The  Judicial  Institutions  -       219 

CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

The  Army  and  Navy       -  230 

CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 
Statesmen  and  Orators  -       257 

CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 
The  Sciences  in  connexion  with  the  State  283 

CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 
Poetry  and  the  Arts  in  connexion  with  the  State        -      319 

CHAPTER  SIXTEENTH. 

Causes  of  the  Fall  of  Greece  344 


GENERAL  PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 


To  the  student  of  the  history  of  man,  there  is 
hardly  a  phenomenon  more  important  in  itself,  or 
more  difficult  of  explanation,  th^n  the  superiority  of 
Europe  over  the  other  parts  of  our  earth.  With 
whatever  justice  other  lands  and  nations  may  be  esti- 
mated, it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  noblest  and  best  of 
every  thing,  which  man  has  produced,  sprung  up,  or 
at  least  ripened,  on  European  soil.  In  the  multitude, 
variety,  and  beauty  of  their  natural  productions,  Asia 
and  Africa  far  surpass  Europe ;  but  in  every  thing 
which  is  the  work  of  man,  the  nations  of  Europe  stand 
far  above  those  of  the  other  continents.  It  was  among 
them,  that,  by  making  marriage  the  union  of  but  two 
individuals,  domestic  society  obtained  that  form,  with- 
out which  so  many  parts  of  our  nature  could  never 
have  been  ennobled ;  and  if  slavery  was  established 
among  them,  they  alone  abolished  it,  because  they 
recognised  its  injustice.  It  was  chiefly  and  almost 
exclusively  among  them  that  such  constitutions  were 
framed,  as  are  suited  to  nations  who  have  become  con- 
scious of  their  rights.  If  Asia,  during  all  the  changes 
in  its  extensive  empires,  does  but  show  the  continued 
1 


2  PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 

reproduction  of  despotism,  it  was  on  European  soil 
that  the  germ  of  political  freedom  unfolded  itself,  and 
under  the  most  various  forms,  in  so  many  parts  of 
the  same,  bore  the  noblest  fruits ;  which  again  were 
transplanted  from  thence  to  other  parts  of  the  world. 
The  simplest  inventions  of  the  mechanic  arts  may 
perhaps  belong  in  part  to  the  East ;  but  how  have 
they  all  been  perfected  by  Europeans.  What  a  re- 
moval from  the  loom  of  the  Hindoo,  to  those  weaving 
machines  which  are  carried  by  steam  ;  from  the  sun- 
dial to  the  chronometer,  from  the  Chinese  bark  to  the 
British  man-of-war.  And  if  we  direct  our  attention 
to  those  nobler  arts,  which,  as  it  were,  raise  human 
nature  above  itself, — what  a  distance  between  the 
Jupiter  of  Phidias  and  an  Indian  idol ;  between  the 
transfiguration  of  Raphael  and  the  works  of  a  Chinese 
painter.  The  East  had  its  annalists,  but  never  pro- 
duced a  Tacitus,  or  a  Gibbon ;  it  had  its  potts,  but 
never  advanced  to  criticism  ;  it  had  its  sages,  who  not 
unfrequently  produced  a  powerful  effect  on  their  na- 
tions by  means  of  their  doctrines ;  but  still  a  Plato 
or  a  Kant  could  never  ripen  on  the  banks  of  the 
Ganges  and  the  Hoangho. 

Nor  can  we  less  admire  that  political  superiority, 
which  the  nations  of  this  small  region,  just  emerging 
from  the  savage  life,  immediately  established  over  the 
extensive  countries  of  the  large  continents.  The  East 
has  seen  powerful  conquerors ;  but  it  was  only  in 
Europe  that  generals  appeared,  who  invented  a 
science  of  war  really  worthy  of  the  name.  Hardly 
had  a  kingdom  in  Macedonia  of  limited  extent  out- 
grown its  childhood,  before  Macedonians  ruled  on  the 
Indus  as  on  the  Nile.  The  imperial  city  was  the 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS.  3 

heiress  of  the  imperial  nation  ;  Asia  and  Africa  pros- 
trated themselves  before  the  Caesars.  Even  in  the 
centuries  of  the  middle  age,  when  the  intellectual 
superiority  of  the  Europeans  seemed  to  have  sunk, 
the  nations  of  the  East  attempted  to  subjugate  them 
in  vain.  The  Mongolians  advanced  into  Silesia ; 
nothing  but  the  wastes  of  Russia  remained  for  a  time 
in  their  power;  the  Arabs  desired  to  overrun  the 
West ;  the  sword  of  Charles  Martel  compelled  them  to 
rest  contented  with  a  part  of  Spain  ;  and  the  chivalrous 
Frank,  under  the  banner  of  the  cross,  soon  bade  them 
defiance  in  their  own  home.  And  how  did  the  fame 
of  the  Europeans  extend  its  beams  over  the  earth, 
when,  through  Columbus  and  Vasco  de  Gama,  the 
morning  of  a  fairer  day  began  to  dawn  for  them.  The 
new  world  at  once  became  their  prey  ;  more  than  a 
third  part  of  Asia  submitted  to  the  Russian  sceptre  ; 
merchants  on  the  Thames  and  the  Zuyder  See  seized 
on  the  government  of  India  ;  and  if  the  Turks  have 
thus  far  been  successful  in  preserving  the  country 
which  they  have  robbed  from  Europe,  will  it  remain 
to  them  forever  ?  will  it  remain  to  them  long?  Those 
conquests  may  have  been  made  with  severity  and  acts 
of  cruelty ;  but  the  Europeans  became  not  only  the 
tyrants,  they  also  became  the  instructers  of  the  world. 
The  civilization  of  mankind  seems  to  be  more  and 
more  closely  connected  with  their  progress ;  and  if,  in 
these  times  of  general  revolution,  any  consoling  pros- 
pect for  the  future  is  opened,  is  it  not  the  triumph  of 
European  culture  in  other  than  the  countries  of 
Europe  ? 

From  whence  proceeds  this  superiority,  this  univer- 
sal sovereignty  of  so  small  a  region  as  Europe  ?    Here 


4  PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 

an  important  truth  presents  itself  at  once.  Not  un- 
disciplined strength,  not  the  mere  physical  force  of  the 
collective  body, — it  was  intelligence  which  produced 
it ;  and  if  the  skill  of  the  Europeans  in  the  art  of  war 
laid  the  foundations  of  their  sovereignty,  it  was  their 
superior  political  science,  which  maintained  it  for 
them.  But  the  question  which  employs  us,  remains 
still  unanswered  :  for  we  desire  to  know  the  causes 
of  this  intellectual  superiority  of  the  Europeans; 
and  why  the  faculties  of  human  nature  were  unfold- 
ed among  them  so  much  more  extensively,  and  so 
much  more  beautifully? 

To  such  a  question  no  perfectly  satisfactory  answer 
can  be  given.  The  phenomenon  is  in  itself  much  too 
rich,  much  too  great  for  that.  It  will  be  readily  con- 
ceded, that  it  could  only  be  the  consequence  of  many 
cooperating  causes  ;  some  of  these  causes  can  be  sep- 
arately enumerated ;  and  therefore  may  afford  some 
explanation  of  it.  But  to  enumerate  them  all,  to 
show  this  influence  singly  and  when  united, — this' 
could  only  be  done  by  a  master  spirit,  to  whom  it 
should  be  granted,  from  a  higher  point  of  view  than 
any  to  which  a  mortal  can  attain,  to  contemplate  the 
whole  web  of  the  history  of  our  race,  the  course  and 
the  tangles  of  the  various  threads. 

And  here  one  important  circumstance  excites  atten- 
tion ;  and  yet  a  circumstance,  of  which  the  cautious  in- 
quirer hardly  ventures  to  fix  the  value.  Whilst  we  see 
the  surface  of  the  other  continents  covered  with  nations 
of  different,  and  almost  always  of  dark  colour,  (and,  in 
so  far  as  this  determines  the  race,  of  different  races)  ; 
the  inhabitants  of  Europe  belong  only  to  one  race.  It 
has  not  now,  and  it  never  had,  any  other  native  inhabi- 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS.  5 

tants  than  the  white  nations.*  Is  the  white  man  distin- 
guished by  greater  natural  talents  ?  Has  he  by  means 
of  them  an  advantage  over  his  coloured  brethren? 
This  is  a  question,  which  physiology  cannot  answer, 
and  to  which  history  must  reply  with  timidity.  Who 
will  directly  deny,  that  the  difference  of  organi- 
zation, which  we  so  variously  observe  to  attend  on 
the  difference  in  colour,  can  have  an  influence  on  the 
more  rapid  or  more  tardy  unfolding  of  the  mind? 
But  who  can,  on  the  other  hand,  demonstrate  this  in- 
fluence, without  first  raising  that  secret  veil,  which 
conceals  from  us  the  reciprocal  connexion  between 
body  and  mind  ?  And  yet  we  must  esteem  it  proba- 
ble ;  and  how  much  does  this  probability  increase  in 
strength,  if  we  make  inquiries  of  history  ?  The  great 
superiority,  which  the  white  nations  in  all  ages  and 
countries  have  possessed,  is  a  matter  of  fact,  which 
cannot  be  denied.  It  may  be  said,  this  was  the  con- 
sequence of  external  circumstances,  which  favoured 
them  more.  But  has  this  always  been  so?  And  why 
has  it  been  so  ?  And  further,  why  did  those  darker 
nations,  which  rose  above  the  savage  state,  attain 
only  to  a  degree  of  culture  of  their  own  ;  a  degree, 
which  was  passed  neither  by  the  Egyptian  nor  by  the 
Mongolian,  neither  by  the  Chinese  nor  the  Hindoo  ? 
And  among  them,  why  did  the  black  remain  behind 
the  brown  and  the  yellow  ?  If  these  observations  can- 
not but  make  us  inclined  to  attribute  a  greater  or 
smaller  capacity  to  the  several  branches  of  our  race, 
they  do  not  on  that  account  prove  an  absolute  want  of 
capacity  in  our  darker  fellow-ihen,  nor  must  they  be 

*  The  Gipsies  are  foreigners ;  and  it  may  seem  doubtful  how  far  the 
Laplanders  are  to  be  reckoned  in  the  white  or  yellow  race. 


6  PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 

urged  as  the  sole  cause.  Thus  much  only  is  intend- 
ed, that  experience  thus  far  seems  to  prove,  that  a 
greater  facility  for  developing  the  powers  of  mind  be- 
longs to  the  nations  of  a  clear  colour ;  but  we  will 
welcome  the  age,  which  shall  contradict  experience  in 
this  point,  and  which  shall  exhibit  to  us  cultivated 
nations  of  negroes. 

But  however  high  or  low  this  natural  precedency 
of  the  Europeans  may  be  estimated,  no  one  can  fail 
of  observing,  that  the  physical  qualities  of  this  con- 
tinent offer  peculiar  advantages,  which  may  serve  not 
a  little  to  explain  the  abovementioned  phenomenon. 

Europe  belongs  almost  entirely  to  the  northern, 
temperate  zone.  Its  most  important  lands  lie  between 
the  fortieth  and  sixtieth  degree  of  north  latitude. 
Farther  to  the  north  nature  gradually  dies.  Thus  our 
continent  has  in  no  part  the  luxuriant  fruitfulness  of 
tropic  regions ;  but  also  no  such  ungrateful  climate, 
as  to  make  the  care  for  the  mere  preservation  of  life 
swallow  up  the  whole  strength  of  its  inhabitants. 
Europe,  except  where  local  causes  put  obstacles  in 
the  way,  is  throughout  susceptible  of  agriculture.  It 
invites  men  to  till  it,  or  rather  it  in  some  measure 
compels  them  ;  for  it  is  as  little  adapted  to  the  chase 
as  to  pasturing.  Although  its  inhabitants  have  at 
various  periods  changed  their  places  of  abode,  they 
were  never  wandering  tribes.  They  emigrated  to  con- 
quer ;  to  make  other  establishments  where  booty  or 
superior  fertility  attracted  them.  No  European  na- 
tion ever  lived  in  tents ;  the  well  wooded  plains 
offered  in  abundance  the  materials  for  constructing 
those  huts,  which  the  inclement  skies  required.  Its  soil 
and  climate  were  peculiarly  fitted  to  accustom  men  to 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS.  7 

that  regular  industry,  which  is  the  source  of  all  pros, 
perity.  If  Europe  could  boast  of  but  few  distinguished 
productions  ;  perhaps  of  no  one  which  was  exclusively 
its  own ;  and  if  it  was  necessary  to  transplant  its  choicest 
products  from  distant  regions,  this  produced  again  the 
necessity  of  cherishing  or  nursing  them.  Thus  art 
became  united  to  nature,  and  this  union  is  the  mother 
of  the  gradual  improvement  of  our  race.  Without 
exertion  the  circle  of  human  ideas  can  never  be  en- 
larged ;  but  at  the  same  time  the  mere  preservation 
of  man  must  not  lay  claim  to  the  exercise  of  all  his 
faculties.  A  degree  of  fruitfulness,  sufficient  to  re- 
ward the  pains  of  culture,  is  spread  almost  equally 
over  Europe  ;  there  are  no  vast  tracts  of  perfect  bar- 
renness ;  no  deserts  like  those  of  Arabia  and  Africa ; 
and  the  extensive  level  lands,  which  are  besides  richly 
supplied  with  water,  begin  only  in  the  eastern  districts. 

Mountains  of  a  moderate  elevation  usually  interrupt 
the  plains  ;  in  every  direction  there  is  an  agreeable 
interchange  of  hill  and  valley  ;  and  if  nature  does  not 
exhibit  the  luxurious  pomp  of  the  torrid  zone,  her 
awakening  in  spring  compensates  for  this  by  charms 
which  do  not  belong  to  the  splendid  uniformity  of 
tropic  climes. 

It  is  true,  that  a  similar  climate  is  shared  by  a  large 
portion  of  middle  Asia  ;  and  it  may  be  asked,  why,  in- 
stead of  the  same,  opposite  appearances  should  be 
there  exhibited,  where  the  shepherd  nations  of  Tar- 
tary  and  Mongolia  seem  to  have  made  no  advance- 
ment, so  long  as  they  remained  in  their  own  countries 
without  stationary  settlements  ?  But  by  the  charac- 
ter of  its  soil,  by  the  succession  of  mountains  and 
valleys,  the  number  of  its  navigable  rivers,  and  above 


8  PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 

all,  by  its  coasts  on  the  Mediterranean,  Europe  dis- 
tinguishes itself  from  those  regions  in  so  remarkable  a 
manner,  that  this  similar  temperature  of  the  air, 
(which  is  moreover  not  perfectly  equal  under  equal 
degrees  of  latitude,  since  Asia  is  colder,)  can  afford 
no  foundation  for  a  comparison. 

But  can  we  derive  from  this  physical  difference, 
those  moral  advantages,  which  were  produced  by 
the  better  regulation  of  domestic  society  ?  With  this 
begins  in  some  measure  the  history  of  the  first  culture 
of  our  continent ;  tradition  has  not  forgotten  to  inform 
us,  that  Cecrops,  when  he  founded  his  colony  among 
the  savage  inhabitants  of  Attica,  instituted  at  the 
same  time  regular  marriages  ;  and  who  has  not  learned 
of  Tacitus  the  holy  custom  of  our  German  ancestors  ? 
Is  it  merely  the  character  of  the  climate,  which  caus- 
es both  sexes  to  ripen  more  gradually,  and  at  the  same 
time  more  nearly  simultaneously,  and  a  cooler  blood 
to  flow  in  the  veins  of  man ;  or  is  a  more  delicate 
sentiment  impressed  upon  the  European,  a  higher 
moral  nobility,  which  determines  the  relation  of  the 
two  sexes  ?  Be  this  as  it  may,  who  does  not  perceive 
the  decisive  importance  of  the  fact  ?  Does  not  the 
wall  of  division  which  separates  the  inhabitants  of  the 
East  from  those  of  the  West,  repose  chiefly  on  this 
basis  ?  And  can  it  be  doubted,  that  this  better 
domestic  institution  was  essential  to  the  progress  of 
our  political  institutions  ?  For  we  make  with  con- 
fidence the  remark  ;  no  nation,  where  polygamy  was 
established  has  ever  obtained  a  free  and  well  ordered 
constitution. 

Whether  these  causes  alone,  or  whether  others  be- 
side them  (for  who  will  deny  that  there  may  have  been 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS.  9 

others?)  procured  for  the  Europeans  their  superiority; 
thus  much  is  certain,  that  all  Europe  may  now  boast 
of  this  superiority.  If  the  nations  of  the  South  pre- 
ceded those  of  the  North  ;  if  these  were  still  wander- 
ing in  their  forests  when  those  had  already  obtained 
their  ripeness, — they  finally  made  up  for  their  dila- 
toriness.  Their  time  also  came  ;  the  time  when  they 
could  look  down  on  their  southern  brethren  with  a 
just  consciousness  of  superiority.  This  leads  us  to  the 
important  differences,  which  are  peculiar  to  the  North 
and  the  South  of  this  continent. 

A  chain  of  mountains,  which,  though  many  arms 
extend  to  the  North  and  South,  runs  in  its  chief  direc- 
tion from  West  to  East,  the  chain  of  the  Alps,  con- 
nected in  the  west  with  the  Pyrenees  by  the  mountains 
of  Sevennes,  extending  to  the  Carpathian  and  the 
Balkan  towards  the  east  as  far  as  the  shores  of  the 
Black  sea,  divides  this  continent  into  two  very  unequal 
parts,  the  Southern  and  the  Northern.  It  separates 
the  three  peninsulas  which  run  to  the  south,  those 
of  the  Pyrenees,  Italy?  and  Greece,  together  with  the 
southern  coast  of  France  and  Germany,  from  the  great 
content  of  Europe,  which  extends  to  the  north  beyond 
the  polar  circle.  This  last,  which  is  by  far  the 
larger  half,  contains  almost  all  the  chief  streams  of 
this  continent ;  the  Ebro,  the  Rhone,  and  the  Po, 
are  alone  important  for  navigation,  of  all  that  empty 
themselves  into  the  Mediterranean  sea.  No  other 
chain  of  mountains  of  our  earth  has  had  such  an 
influence  on  the  history  of  our  race,  as  the  chain  of 
the  Alps.  During  a  long  succession  of  ages,  it  parted, 
as  it  were,  two  worlds  from  each  other ;  the  fairest 
buds  of  civilization  had  already  opened  under  the 


10  PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 

Grecian  and  Hesperian  skies,  whilst  scattered  tribes 
of  barbarians  were  yet  wandering  in  the  forests  of 
the  North.  How  different  would  have  been  the  whole 
history  of  Europe,  had  the  wall  of  the  Alps,  instead 
of  being  near  the  Mediterranean,  been  removed  to 
the  shores  of  the  North  sea?  This  boundary,  it  is 
true,  seems  of  less  moment  in  our  time  ;  when  the 
enterprising  spirit  of  the  European  has  built  a  road 
across  the  Alps,  just  as  it  has  found  a  path  over  the 
ocean  ;  but  it  was  of  decisive  importance  for  the  age 
of  which  we  are  speaking,  for  antiquity  .*  The  North 
and  South  were  then  physically,  morally,  and  politi- 
cally divided ;  that  chain  long  remained  the  protect- 
ing bulwark  of  the  one  against  the  other ;  and  if 
Caesar,  finally  breaking  over  these  boundaries,  re- 
moved in  some  measure  the  political  landmarks,  the 
distinction  still  continues  apparent  between  the  Roman 
part  of  Europe,  and  that  which  never  yielded  to  the 
Romans. 

It  is  therefore  only  the  southern  part  of  our  hemis- 
phere, which  can  employ  us  in  our  present  inquiries. 
Its  limited  extent,  which  seemed  to  afford  no  room 
for  powerful  nations,  was  amply  compensated  by  its 
climate  and  situation.  What  traveller  from  the  North 
ever  descended  the  southern  side  of  the  Alps  without 
being  excited  by  the  view  of  the  novel  scenery 
that  surrounded  him  ?  The  more  beautiful  blue  of 
the  Italian  and  Grecian  sky,  the  milder  air,  the  more 
graceful  forms  of  the  mountains,  the  pomp  of  the 
rocky  shores  and  the  islands,  the  dark  tints  of 
the  forests  glittering  with  golden  fruits — do  these 
exist  merely  in  the  songs  of  the  poets  ?  Although 
the  tropic  climes  are  still  distant,  a  foretaste  of  them 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS.  11 

is  enjoyed  even  here.  The  aloe  grows  wild  in  Lower 
Italy ;  the  sugar-cane  thrives  in  Sicily ;  from  the 
top  of  jEtna,  the  eye  can  discern  the  rocks  of  Malta, 
where  the  fruit  of  the  palm-tree  ripens,  and  in  the 
azure  distance,  even  the  coasts  of  neighbouring 
Africa.*  Here  nature  never  partakes  of  the  uni- 
formity, which  so  long  repressed  the  spirit  of  the 
natives  that  inhabited  the  forests  and  plains  of 
the  North.  In  all  these  countries  there  is  a 
constant  interchange  of  moderately  elevated  moun- 
tains with  pleasant  valleys  and  level  lands,  over 
which  Pomona  has  scattered  her  choicest  blessings. 
The  limited  extent  of  the  countries  allows  no  large 
navigable  rivers ;  but  what  an  indemnification  for 
this  is  found  in  its  seacoasts,  so  extensive,  and  so  rich 
in  bays.  The  Mediterranean  sea  belongs  to  the 
South  of  Europe ;  and  it  was  by  means  of  that  sea, 
that  the  nations  of  the  West  first  assumed  the  rank, 
which  they  did.  Let  an  extensive  heath  occupy  its 
place,  and  like  the  nomades  of  middle  Asia,  we  should 
yet  be  wandering  Tartars  and  Mongolians. 

Of  the  nations  of  the  South,  only  three  can  engage 
our  attention ;  the  Greeks,  Macedonians,  and  Romans, 
the  masters  of  Italy  and  then  of  the  world.  We  have 
named  them  in  the  order  in  which  history  presents 
them  to  us  as  distinguished  nations,  although  distin- 
guished in  different  ways.  We  shall  follow  the  same 
order  in  treating  of  them. 

*  Reise  durch  Sicilien.    B.  II.  p.  338— 44Q. 


GREECE. 


GREECE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE. 

WERE  any  one,  who  is  entirely  unacquainted  with 
the  history  of  the  Greeks,  to  examine  the  map  with 
attention,  he  could  hardly  remain  in  doubt  that  their 
country,  in  point  of  situation,  is  favoured  by  nature 
beyond  any  other  in  Europe.  It  is  the  most  southern 
of  that  continent.  The  promontory  of  Taenarium,  iu 
which  it  terminates,  lies  under  almost  the  same  degree 
of  latitude  with  the  celebrated  rock  of  Calpe ;  and 
its  northern  boundary  falls  somewhat  to  the  south  of 
Madrid.  In  this  manner  it  extends  from  that  prom- 
ontory to  Olympus  and  the  Cambuniah  mountains, 
which  divide  it  from  Macedonia,  about  two  hundred 
and  twenty-five  miles  from  south  to  north.*  Its  east- 
ern point  is  the  promontory  of  Sunium  in  Attica ; 
from  thence  its  greatest  breadth,  to  the  promontory  of 
Leucas  in  the  west,  is  about  one  hundred  and  sixty 
miles.  The  greatness  of  the  nation  and  the  variety 
of  its  achievements  easily  lead  to  the  error  of  believing 
the  country  an  extensive  one.  But  even  if  we  add 
all  the  islands,  its  square  contents  are  a  third  less  than 

*  From  36£  to  40  degrees  north  latitude. 


16  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

those  of  Portugal.  But  what  advantages  of  situatioa 
does  it  not  possess  over  the  Iberian  peninsula.  If  this, 
according  to  the  ideas  of  the  ancients,  was  the  west- 
ern extremity  of  the  world,  as  the  distant  Serica  was 
the  eastern,  Greece  was  as  it  were  in  the  centre  of 
the  most  cultivated  countries  of  three  continents.  A 
short  passage  by  sea  divided  it  from  Italy  ;  and  the 
voyage  to  Egypt,  Asia  Minor,  and  Phoenicia,  though 
somewhat  longer,  seemed  hardly  more  dangerous. 

Nature  herself,  in  this  land  of  such  moderate  ex- 
tent, established  the  geographical  divisions,  by  sepa- 
rating the  peninsula  of  the  Peloponnesus  from  the 
main  land  ;  and  by  dividing  the  latter  into  nearly  equal 
parts,  northern  and  southern,  by  the  chain  of  (Eta, 
which  traverses  it  obliquely.  In  every  direction  hills 
are  interchanged  with  valleys  and  fruitful  plains  ;  and 
if  in  its  narrow  compass  no  large  rivers  are  found  (the 
Peneus  and  Achelous  are  the  only  considerable  ones), 
its  extensive  coasts,  abundantly  provided  with  bays, 
landing-places,  and  natural  harbours,  afford  more  than 
an  equivalent. 

The  peninsula  of  Pelops,  so  called  in  honour  of 
Pelops,  who,  according  to  the  tradition,  introduced, 
not  war,  but  the  gifts  of  peace  from  Ar,ia  Minor,  is 
about  equal  in  extent  to  Sicily,  and  forms  the  south- 
ernmost district.  It  consists  in  its  centre  of  a  high 
ridge  of  hills,  which  sends  out  several  branches,  and 
some  as  far  as  the  sea ;  but  between  these  branches  there 
are  fruitful  plains  well  watered  by  an  abundance  of 
streams,  which  pour  from  the  mountains  in  every  di- 
rection. This  high  inland  district,  which  no  where 
borders  on  the  sea,  is  the  far-famed  Arcadia  of  poet- 
ical tradition.  Its  highest  peak,  the  mountain  Cyllene, 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.        17 

rises,  according  to  Strabo,  from  fifteen  to  twenty 
stadia  above  the  sea.*  Nature  has  destined  this 
country  for  herdsmen.  "  The  pastures  and  meadows 
in  summer  are  always  green  and  unscorched  ;  for  the 
shade  and  moisture  preserve  them.  The  country  has 
an  appearance  similar  to  that  of  Switzerland,  and  the 
Arcadians  in  some  measure  resemble  the  inhabitants  of 
the  Alps.  They  possessed  a  love  of  freedom  and  a 
love  of  money ;  for  wherever  there  was  money,  you 
might  see  Arcadian  hirelings.  But  it  is  chiefly  the 
western  part  of  Arcadia  (where  Pan  invented  the 
shepherd's  flute),  which  deserves  the  name  of  a  pas- 
toral country.  Innumerable  brooks,  one  more  delight- 
ful than  the  other,  sometimes  rushing  impetuously  and 
sometimes  gently  murmuring,  pour  themselves  down 
the  mountains.  Vegetation  is  rich  and  magnificent ; 
every  where  freshness  and  coolness  are  found.  One 
flock  of  sheep  here  succeeds  another,  till  the  banks  of 
the  wild  Taygetus  are  approached  ;  where  numerous 
herds  of  goats  are  seen  also."f  The  inhabitants  of 
Arcadia,  devoted  to  the  pastoral  life,  preferred  there- 
fore for  a  long  time  to  dwell  in  the  open  country 
rather  than  in  cities  ;  and  when  some  of  these,  par- 
ticularly Tegea  and  Mantinea,  became  considerable, 
the  contests  between  them  destroyed  the  peace  and 
liberties  of  the  people.  The  shepherd  life  among  the 
Greeks,  although  much  ornamented  by  the  poets,  be- 
trays its  origin  in  this ;  that  it  arose  among  a  people, 
who  did  not  wander  like  the  Nomades,  but  were  in 
possession  of  stationary  dwellings. 

*  Strabo,  1.  viii.  p.  267.  ed.  Casaub.     The  indefinite  nature  of  the  account 
shows  how  uncertain  it  is. 

t  Bartholdy.  BruchstQcke  zu  nahern  Keuntniss  Griechenlands,  p.  239-241. 

3 


18  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

Round  Arcadia  seven  districts  were  situated,  almost 
all  of  which  were  well  watered  by  streams,  that  de- 
scended from  its  highlands.  In  the  south  lay  the  land 
of  heroes,  Laconia,  rough  and  mountainous,  but  thick- 
ly settled  ;  so  that  it  is  said  to  have  contained  nearly 
a  hundred  towns  or  villages.*  It  was  watered  by 
the  Eurotas,  the  clearest  and  purest  of  all  the  Grecian 
rivers, f  which  had  its  rise  in  Arcadia,  and  was  in- 
creased by  several  smaller  streams.  Sparta  was  built 
upon  its  banks,  the  mistress  of  the  country?  without 
walls,  without  gates  ;  defended  only  by  its  citizens. 
It  was  one  of  the  larger  cities  of  Greece  ;  but,  not- 
withstanding the  market-place,  the  theatre,  and  the 
various  temples  which  Pausanias  enumerates, J  it  was 
not  one  of  the  most  splendid.  The  monuments  of 
fallen  heroes^  constituted  the  principal  ornament  of 
the  banks  of  the  Eurotas,  which  were  then  and  still 
are  covered  with  the  laurel. ||  But  all  these  monu- 
ments have  perished ;  there  is  a  doubt  even  as  to  the 
spot  where  ancient  Sparta  was  situated.  It  was  for- 
merly thought  to  be  the  modern  Misitra  ;  this  opinion 
has  been  given  up  ;  a  more  recent  traveller  believes, 
that  about  six  miles  from  thence  he  has  discovered,  in 
the  ruins  of  Mogula,  the  traces  of  the  ancient  theatre 
and  some  of  the  temples. ^  At  the  distance  of  four 
miles  lay  Amyclae,  celebrated  for  the  oracle  of  Apollo, 

*  Manso  has  enumerated  siity-seven  :  Sparta,  i.  2.  p.  15. 

t  Bartboldy.  BruchstQcke,  fcc.  p.  228. 

J  Pausan.  Hi.  p.  240.  ed.  Kuhn. 

§  See  the  long  list  of  them  in  Pausanias,  p.  240,  243,  kc. 

||  Pouqueville.  Voyage  i.  p.  189. 

f  See  Chateaubriand.  Itineraire  de  Paris  a  Jerusalem,  i.  p.  26.  This  travel- 
ler was  but  one  hour  in  going  from  Misitra  to  Mogula,  by  way  of  Palaiochoros, 
but  it  was  done  on  horseback  and  in  a  gallop.  Those  discoveries  belong  to 
M.  Chateaubriand;  he  remarks,  however, that  others  before  him  had  suppos- 
ed Palaiochoros  to  be  the  site  of  ancient  Sparta. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  19 

but  not  a  trace  of  the  sanctuary  is  now  visible  ;  and 
a  road 'of  twelve  miles  led  from  Sparta  to  Gythium, 
its  harbour  in  that  period  of  its  history,  where,  mis- 
taking its  true  policy,  it  built  a  fleet.  On  the  west 
and  north,  Laconia  was  surrounded  by  the  Taygetus, 
which  separated  it  from  the  fruitful  plains  of  Messe- 
nia.  This  country  was  soon  overpowered  by  Sparta,* 
which,  having  thus  doubled  its  territory,  easily  be- 
came the  largest  of  all  the  Grecian  cities.  But  though 
it  remained  for  a  long  time  in  the  quiet  possession  of 
Messenia,  the  day  of  retribution  came,  when  Epami- 
nondas,  its  restorer,  crushed  the  power  of  humbled 
Sparta. 

A  neck  of  land,  called  Argolis,  from  its  capital  city 
Argos,  extends  in  a  southerly  direction  from  Arcadia 
fifty-four  miles  into  the  sea,  where  it  terminates  in  the 
promontory  of  Scillaeum.  Many  and  important  asso- 
ciations of  the  heroic  age  are  connected  with  this 
country.  Here  was  Tiryns,  from  whence  Hercules 
departed  at  the  commencement  of  his  labours ;  here 
was  Mycenae,  the  country  of  Agamemnon,  the  most 
powerful  and  most  unhappy  of  kings  ;  here  \vds 
Nemea,  celebrated  for  its  games  instituted  in  honour 
of  Neptune.  But  the  glory  of  its  early  history  does 
not  seem  to  have  animated  Argos.  No  Themistocles, 
no  Agesilaus  was  ever  counted  among  its  citizens  ;  and, 
though  it  possessed  a  territory  of  no  inconsiderable  ex- 
tent, it  never  assumed  a  rank  among  the  first  of  the 
Grecian  states,  but  was  rather  the  passive  object  of 
foreign  policy. 

In  the  west  of  the  Peloponnesus  lay  Elis,  the  holy 
land.  Its  length  from  south  to  north,  if  the  small 

*Io  the  second  Messenian  war,  which  ended  668  years  before  Christ. 


20  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

southern  district  of  Triphylia  be  reckoned,  amounted 
to  fifty-four  miles ;  its  breadth  in  the  broadest  part 
was  not  more  than  half  as  much.  Several  rivers, 
which  had  their  rise  in  the  Arcadian  mountains,  water- 
ed its  fruitful  plains.  Among  them  the  Alpheus  was 
the  largest  and  the  most  famous ;  the  Olympic  games 
were  celebrated  on  its  banks.  Its  fountains  were  not 
far  distant  from  those  of  the  Eurotas  ;  and  as  the  lat- 
ter, taking  a  southerly  direction,  flowed  through  the 
land  of  war,  the  former  in  a  westerly  one  passed 
through  the  land  of  peace.  For  here,  in  the  country 
sacred  to  Jove,  where  the  nation  of  the  Hellenes  assem- 
bled in  festive  pomp  and  saluted  each  other  as  one 
people,  no  bloody  feuds  were  suffered  to  profane  the 
soil.  Armies  were  indeed  permitted  to  pass  through 
the  consecrated  land  ;  but  they  were  first  deprived  of 
their  arms,  which  they  did  not  again  receive  till  they 
left  it.*  This  is  the  glory  of  the  Greeks,  that  they 
honoured  the  nobler  feelings  of  humanity,  where 
other  nations  were  unmindful  of  them.  They  flour- 
ished so  long  as  they  possessed  self-government 
enough  to  do  this ;  they  fell  when  sacred  things  ceas- 
ed to  be  sacred. 

The  country  of  Elis  embraced  three  divisions.  The 
woody  Triphylia  was  in  the  south,  and  contained  that 
Pylus,  which,  according  to  the  judgment  of  Strabo, 
could  lay  a  better  claim  than  either  of  the  other  two 
towns  of  the  same  name,  to  have  been  the  country  of 
Nestor,  f  The  northern  division  was  Elis,  a  plain  en- 
closed by  the  rough  mountains  Pholoe  and  Scollis. 

*  Strabo,  viii.  p.  247. 

t  Strabo,  viii.  p.  242.    The  two  other  towns  were  situated,  one  in  north 
era  Elis,  the  other  in  Messenia. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  21 

both,  branches  of  the  Arcadian  Erymanthus,  and 
watered  by  the  Selleis  and  the  Elian  Peneus,  on  the 
banks  of  which  the  city  was  built  that  gave  a  name  to 
the  whole  region,  over  which  it  also  exercised  supreme 
authority  ;  for  the  district  of  the  Elians,  embracing 
both  Pisatis  and  Triphylia,  extended  to  the  borders 
of  Messenia.*  The  middle  territory,  Pisatis,  so  call- 
ed from  the  city  Pisa,  was  the  most  important  of  all, 
for  it  contained  Olympia.  Two  roads  from  Elis  led 
thither,  one  near  the  sea  through  the  plain,  another 
through  the  mountains  ;  the  distance  was  from  thirty 
to  thirty-five  miles. f  The  name  Olympia  designated 
the  country  round  the  city  Pisaf  (which  even  in  Stra- 
bo's  time  was  no  longer  in  existence),  where  every  five 
years  those  games  were  celebrated,  which  the  Elians 
established  after  the  subjugation  of  the  Pisans,  and  at 
which  they  presided.  If  this  privilege  gave  to  them,  as 
it  were,  all  their  importance  in  the  eyes  of  the  Greeks  ; 
if  their  country  thus  became  the  common  centre  ;  if  it 
was  the  first  in  Greece  with  respect  to  works  of  art 
and  perhaps  to  wealth  ;  if  their  safety,  their  prosperi- 
ty, their  fame,  and  in  some  measure  their  existence  as 
an  independent  state,  were  connected  with  the  temple 
of  Jupiter  Olympius  and  its  festivals ; — need  we  be 
astonished,  if  no  sacrifice  seemed  to  them  too  great, 
by  which  the  glory  of  Olympia  was  to  be  increased  ? 
Here  on  the  banks  of  the  Alpheus  stood  the  sacred 
grove,  called  Altis,  of  olive  and  plane  trees,  surrounded 

*  Strabo,  viii.  p.  247,  relates  the  manner  in  which  it  came  to  be  extended 
thus  far  by  the  assistance  of  the  Spartans  in  the  Messenian  war. 

t  According  to  Strabo,  1.  c.  300  stadia. 

t  Barthelemy  is  not  strictly  accurate,  when  he  calls  (iv.  p.  207)  Pisa  and 
Olympia  one  city.  Pisa  was  but  six  stadia  (not  quite  a  mile)  from  the  temple ; 
Schol.  Find,  ad  01.  x.  55.  I  have  never  met  with  any  mention  of  a  city 
Olympia. 


22  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

by  an  enclosure  ;  a  sanctuary  of  the  arts,  such  as  the 
world  has  never  since  beheld.  For  what  are  all  our 
cabinets  and  museums,  compared  with  this  one  spot? 
Its  centre  was  occupied  by  the  national  temple  of  the 
Hellenes,  the  temple  of  Olympian  Jove,*  in  which  was 
the  colossal  statue  of  that  god,  the  masterpiece  of 
Phidias.  No  other  work  of  art  in  antiquity  was  so 
generally  acknowledged  to  have  been  the  first,  even 
whilst  all  other  inventions  of  Grecian  genius  were  still 
uninjured ;  and  need  we  hesitate  to  regard  it  as  the 
first  of  all  the  works  of  art,  of  which  we  have  any 
knowledge  ?  Besides  this  temple,  the  grove  contained 
those  of  Juno  and  Lucina,  the  theatre  and  the  pryta- 
neum  ;  in  front  of  it,  or  perhaps  within  its  precints,f 
was  the  stadium  together  with  the  race-ground,  or  hip- 
podromus.  The  whole  forest  was  filled  with  monu- 
ments and  statues,  erected  in  honour  of  gods,  heroes, 
and  conquerors.  Pausanias  mentions  more  than  two 
hundred  and  thirty  statues ;  of  Jupiter  alone  he 
describes  twenty  three,!  and  these  were,  for  the  most 
part,  works  of  the  first  artists ;  for  how  could  any 

*  The  temple  of  Jupiter  Olympius,  built  by  the  Elians  in  the  age  of 
Pericles,  had  nearly  the  same  dimensions  as  the  Parthenon  at  Athens  ;  230 
feet  in  length,  95  in  breadth,  and  68  in  height.  The  colossal  statue  of  Jupi- 
ter, represented  as  seated,  nearly  touched  the  roof  of  the  temple,  as  Strabo 
relates  ;  and  is  said  to  have  been  60  feet  high.  Compare  :  Volkel  Uber  den 
grossen  Tempel  und  die  Statue  des  Jupiters  in  Olympia,  1794. 

t  According  to  Strabo,  in  the  Altis :  Barth61emy  says,  in  front  of  it.  We 
are  still  much  in  the  dark  respecting  the  situation  of  ancient  Olympia. 
What  Chandler  says  is  unimportant.  The  only  modern  traveller,  who  has  made 
accurate  investigations,  is  M.  Fauvel.  But  I  am  unacquainted  with  his  com- 
munication to  the  National  Institute,  Precis  de  ses  voyages  dans  It  continent 
de  la  Grece,  only  from  the  short  notice  contained  in  Millin,  Magazin  Ency- 
clop.  1802,  T.  II.  He  found,  it  is  there  said,  not  only  the  remains  of  the 
temple  of  Jupiter,  by  also  of  the  Hippodromus. 

t  Pausanias,  v.  p.  434,  &c.  has  enumerated  and  described  that  number. 
Among  them  there  was  a  Colossus' of  bronze,  27  feet  high. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.        23 

poor  production  gain  admittance,  where  even  indiffe- 
rent ones  were  despised  ?  Pliny  estimates  the  whole 
number  of  these  statues  in  his  time,  at  three  thou- 
sand.* To  this  must  be  added  the  treasuries 
(3->?<ray£0/),  which  the  piety  or  the  vanity  of  so  many 
cities,  enumerated  by  Pausaniasf,  had  established  by 
their  votive  presents.  It  was  with  a  just  pride,  that 
the  Grecian  departed  from  Olympia.  He  could  say 
to  himself  with  truth,  that  he  had  seen  the  noblest 
objects  on  earth,  and  that  these  were  not  the  works 
of  foreigners,  but  the  creation  and  the  property  of 
his  own  nation. 

The  repose,  for  which  Elis  was  indebted  to  the 
protection  of  the  gods,  was  secured  to  Achaia, 
the  country  which  bounded  it  on  the  north,  by  the 
wisdom  of  men.  Having  once  been  inhabited  by 
lonians,  this  maritime  country  had  borne  the  name  of 
Ionia ;  which  was  afterwards  applied  exclusively  to 
the  neighbouring  sea  on  the  west  side  of  Greece. 
But  in  the  confusion  produced  by  the  general  emigra- 
tion of  the  Dorians,  it  exchanged  its  ancient  inhabitants 
for  Achaeans.*  Achaia,  watered  by  a  multitude  of 
mountain  streams,  which  descended  from  the  high 
ridges  of  Arcadia,  belonged,  with  respect  to  its  extent, 
fruitfulness,  and  population,  to  the  middling  countries 
of  Greece.  The  character  of  its  inhabitants  corres- 
ponded with  this.  They  never  aspired  after  aggran- 
dizement, or  influence  abroad.  They  were  not  made 
illustrious  by  great  generals  or  great  poets.  But 

*  Pliny,  Hist.  Nat.  xxxiv.  17.  There  were  as  many  at  Athens,  Delphi, 
and  Rhodes. 

t  Paus.  vi.  p.  497,  etc. 

I  Aa  early  as  1 100  before  Christ. 


24  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

they  possessed  good  laws.  Twelve  cities,*  each  with 
a  small  territory,  independent  of  each  other  in  the 
management  of  their  internal  affairs,  formed  a  con- 
federacy, which,  under  the  name  of  the  Achaean 
league,  could  trace  its  origin  to  remote  antiquity.  A 
perfect  equality  was  its  fundamental  principle  ;  no 
precedence  of  rank  or  power  was  to  he  usurped  by 
any  single  city.  What  an  example  for  the  other  parts 
of  Greece,  if  they  had  been  able  or  willing  to  under- 
stand it !  In  this  manner  the  Achseans  continued 
for  a  long  time  in  the  enjoyment  of  happy  tranquillity, 
having  no  share  in  the  wars  of  their  neighbours. 
Their  country  was  in  no  one's  way,  and  attracted  no 
one;  even  during  the  Peloponnesian  war,  they 
remained  neutral.  The  Macedonian  supremacy  finally 
dissolved  the  confederacy,  and  favoured  individual 
tyrants,  of  whom  it  made  use  as  its  instruments.  But 
the  time^  was  destined  to  arrive,  when  Nemesis  should 
exert  her  power.  The  Achaean  league  was  renewed, 
and  enlarged,  and  it  became  most  dangerous  to  the 
Macedonian  rulers. 

The  small  territory  of  the  city  Sicyon,  (which 
afterwards  belonged  to  the  Achaean  league)  divided 
Achaia  from  that  of  Corinth.  In  point  of  extent,  this 
state  was  one  of  the  smallest  in  Greece ;  but  the 
importance  of  a  commercial  sti.te  does  not  depend  on 
the  extent  of  its  territory.  Venice  was  never  more 
flourishing  or  more  powerful,  than  at  a  time  when 
it  did  not  possess  a  square  mile  on  the  continent. 
Wealthy  Corinth,  more  than  four  miles  in  extent, 
lay  at  the  foot  of  a  steep  and  elevated  hill,  on  which 

*Dyme  and  Patraj  were  the  most  important;    Hclice  was  swallowed 
up  by  the  sea. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  25 

its  citadel  was  built.  There  was  hardly  a  stronger 
fortress  in  all  Greece,  and  perhaps  no  spot  afforded  a 
more  splendid  prospect  than  Acrocorinthus.*  Be- 
neath it  might  be  seen  the  busy  city  and  its  territory, 
with  its  temples,  its  theatres,  and  its  aqueducts.f  Its 
two  harbours,  Lechseum  on  the  western  bay,  Cen- 
chrese  on  the  eastern,  filled  with  ships,  and  the  two 
bays  themselves  with  the  isthmus  between  them,  were 
all  in  sight.  The  peaks  of  Helicon  and  of  Par- 
nassus itself,  were  seen  at  a  distance  ;  and  a  strong 
eye  could  distinguish  on  the  eastern  side  the  Acropo- 
lis of  Athens.  What  images  and  emotions  are  excit- 
ed by  this  prospect !  At  present  barbarians  possess 
it,  who  do  not  even  allow  it  to  be  enjoyed.  No  for- 
eigner is  now  permitted  to  ascend  the  citadel  of 
Corinth. 

Beyond  the  isthmus  of  the  Peloponnesus,  which 
the  Grecians,  acquainted  for  a  long  time  with  no  other, 
were  accustomed  to  call  simply  the  Isthmus,  lay  the 
tract  of  Hellas.  The  southern  half  of  the  same,  stretch- 
ing as  far  as  the  chain  of  (Eta,  was  divided  into  eight, 
or,  if  Locris,  of  which  there  were  two  parts,  be  twice 
counted,  into  nine  districts  ;  of  these,  the  extent 
was  but  small,  as  their  number  indicates.  Near  the 
isthmus,  on  which  the  temple  of  Neptune,  where  all 
Greece  assembled  to  celebrate  the  Isthmian  games, 
was  built  in  a  grove  of  fir-trees,  the  small  territory  of 
MegaraJ  took  its  beginning ;  and  through  this,  along 

*  See  Strabo,  p.  261.  Of  modern  travellers,  Spon  and  Wheler  ascended 
it  in  16Y6.  Chateaubriand,  i.  36.  says,  that  the  prospect  at  the  foot  of  the 
citadel  is  enchanting.  If  it  is  so  now,  what  must  it  formerly  have  been  ? 

t  Corinth  is  famous  even  with  the  poets,  for  being  well  supplied  with 
water ;  compare  Euripides  in  Strabo  1.  c.  Pausanias  enumerates,  1.  ii.  its 
many  temples  and  aqueducts. 

tLike  that  of  Corinth,  not  more  than  eight  miles  in  length  and  breadth. 

4 


26  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

the  high  rocky  shore,  where  the  robber  Sciron  is  said 
to  have  exercised  his  profession,  the  road  conducted 
to  the  favourite  land  of  the  gods,  to  Attica. 

A  neck  of  land  or  peninsula,  opposite  to  that  of 
Argolis,  extends  in  a  southeasterly  direction  about 
sixty  three  miles  into  the  ^Egean  sea,  and  forms  this 
country.  Where  it  is  connected  with  the  main  land, 
its  greatest  breadth  may  be  twenty-five  miles  ;  but  it 
tapers  more  and  more  to  a  point,  till  it  ends  in  the 
high  cape  of  Sunium,  on  the  summit  of  which  the 
temple  of  Minerva  announced  to  the  traveller,  as  he 
arrived  from  sea,  the  land  which  was  protected  by 
the  goddess  of  courage  and  wisdom.  It  was  not 
endowed  with  luxuriant  fruitfulness ;  it  never  pro- 
duced so  much  corn  as  would  supply  its  own  inhabi- 
tants ;  and  for  this,  neither  the  honey  of  Hymettus, 
nor  the  marble  of  the  Pentelic  mountains,  nor  even 
the  silver  mines  of  Laurium,  could  have  afforded  a 
compensation.  But  the  culture  of  the  olive,  an 
industrious  application  to  the  arts,  and  the  advanta- 
geous use  made  of  the  situation  of  the  country  for 
the  purposes  of  commerce,  gave  to  the  frugal  people 
all  that  they  needed  and  something  more  ;  for  the 
activity  of  commerce  was  shackled  by  no  restrictive 
laws.  Almost  the  whole  country  is  mountainous ; 
the  mountains  are  indeed  of  a  moderate  height,  and 
covered  with  aromatic  plants ;  but  they  are  stony  and 
without  forests.  Their  outlines  are,  however,  won- 
derfully beautiful ;  the  waters  of  the  Ilissus,  the 
Cephissus,  and  of  other  rivers,  or,  to  speak  more 
accurately,  of  other  brooks,  which  stream  from  them, 
are  clear  as  crystal,  and  dilicious  to  the  taste ;  and 
the  almost  constant  purity  of  the  air,  which  lends 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.        27 

very  peculiar  tints  to  the  buildings,  no  less  than  to 
the  mountains,*  opens  a  prospect,  which  distance  can 
hardly  bound.  "  For  without  doubt  (says  a  modern 
travellerf )  this  is  the  most  salubrious,  the  purest,  and 
the  mildest  climate  of  Greece  ;  as  Euripides$  has  said, 
'  Our  air  is  soft  and  mild  ;  the  frost  of  winter  is  never 
severe,  nor  the  beams  of  Phoebus  oppressive  ;  so  that 
for  us  there  are  no  attractions  in  the  choicest  delights 
which  are  offered  by  the  fields  of  Asia,  or  the  wealth 
of  Hellas.' " 

But  where  the  mountains  open,  and  leave  room 
for  plains  of  a  moderate  extent,  the  soil  is  still  cover- 
ed by  forests  of  olive-trees,  of  which  the  eye  can 
perceive  no  termination.  "  More  beautiful  are  no- 
where to  be  seen.  Those  of  Palermo  or  on  the  Riv- 
era of  Genoa  are  hardly  to  be  compared  with  these, 
which  seem  as  it  were  undying,  and  century  after  cen- 
tury send  forth  new  branches  and  new  shoots  with  ren- 
ovated vigour." §  Formerly  they  overshadowed  the 
sacred  road,  the  country  of  the  Ceramicus,  and  the 
garden  of  the  Academy ;  and  if  the  Goddess  herself, 
like  her  scholars,  has  deserted  the  soil,  she  has  at 
least  left  behind  her  for  posterity,  the  first  of  the 
presents,  which  she  made  to  her  darling  nation. 

Whoever  travelled  from  Corinth  and  Megara 
across  the  isthmus  to  Attica,  reached  the  sacred  city 
of  Eleusis  at  the  distance  of  about  nine  miles  from 
Megara.  When  the  inhabitants  of  that  place  sub- 
mitted to  Athens,  they  reserved  for  themselves  nothing 

*  See  the  remarks  of  Chateaubriand  on  this  subject.  7/m^ratre  It  Jeruta- 
lem,  i.  p.  191. 

t  Bartholdy.  Brucbstdcke,  &c.  p.  241. 
\  Euripides  in  Erechtheo.  fr.  i.  v.  15,  &c. 
§  Bartholdy.  BruchstOcke.  &c.  p.  220. 


28  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

but  their  sanctuaries  ;*  and  hence  the  mysterious 
festivals  of  Ceres  continued  to  be  celebrated  in  their 
temple.  From  this  place,  the  sacred  road  of  almost 
unvarying  breadth,  led  to  the  city  protected  by 
Pallas". 

Athens  lay  in  a  plain,  which  on  the  southwest 
extended  for  about  four  miles  towards  the  sea  and 
the  harbours,  but  on  the  other  side  was  enclosed  by 
mountains.  The  plain  itself  was  interrupted  by 
several  rocky  hills.  The  largest  and  highest  of  these 
supported  the  Citadel  or  Acropolis,  which  took  its 
name  from  its  founder  Cecrops ;  round  this,  the  city 
was  spread  out,  especially  in  the  direction  of  the  sea. 
The  summit  of  the  hill  contained  a  level  space,  about 
eight  hundred  feet  long,  and  half  as  broad ;  which 
seemed,  as  it  were,  prepared  by  nature  to  support 
those  masterpieces  of  architecture,  which  announced 
at  a  great  distance  the  splendour  of  Athens.  The 
only  road  which  led  to  it,  conducted  to  the  Propy- 
laea,f  with  its  two  wings,  the  temple  of  Victory,  and 
another  temple,  ornamented  with  the  pictures  of  Pol- 
ygnotus.  That  superb  edifice,  the  most  splendid 
monument  which  was  erected  under  the  administra- 
tion of  Pericles,  the  work  of  Mnesicles,  was  deco- 
rated by  the  admirable  sculptures  of  Phidias.J  They 
formed  the  proud  entrance  to  the  level  summit  of  the 
hill,  on  which  were  the  temples  of  the  guardian  deities 
of  Athens.  On  the  left  was  the  temple  of  Pallas,  the 

*  Pausan.  i.  p.  92. 

t  Compare  the  sketches  and  drawings  in  Stuart's  Antiquities  of  Miens. 

J  A  part  of  these  masterpieces  has  perished.  By  robbing  (he  Acropolis, 
Lord  Elgin  has  gained  a  name,  which  no  other  will  wish  to  share  with  him. 
The  sea  has  swallowed  up  his  plunder.  The  devastation  made  by  this  mod- 
ern Herostratus,  is  described  by  Chateaubriand,  [finer,  i.  p.  2<>2 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  29 

protectress  of  cities,  with  the  column  which  fell  from 
heaven,  and  the  sacred  olive-tree  ;  and  that  of  Nep- 
tune. But  on  the  right,  the  Parthenon,  the  pride  of 
Athens,  rose  above  every  thing  else,  possessing  the 
colossal  statue  of  Minerva  by  Phidias,  next  to  the 
Olympian  Jupiter,  the  noblest  of  his  works.  At  the 
foot  of  the  hill  on  the  one  side  was  the  Odeum,  and 
the  theatre  of  Bacchus,  where  the  tragic  contests  were 
celebrated  on  the  festivals  of  the  god,  and  those 
immortal  masterpieces  were  represented,  which,  hav- 
ing remained  to  us,  double  our  regret  for  those  which 
are  lost ;  on  the  other  side  was  the  Prytaneum,  where 
the  chief  magistrates  and  most  meritorious  citizens 
were  honoured  by  a  table,  provided  at  the  public 
expense.  A  moderate  valley,  Crele,  was  interposed 
between  the  Acropolis  and  the  hill  on  which  the 
Areopagus  held  its  assemblies,  and  again  between 
this  and  the  hill  of  the  Pnyx,  where  the  collected 
people  was  accustomed  to  decide  on  the  affairs  of  the 
republic.  Here  the  spot  from  which  Pericles  and 
Demosthenes  harangued,  is  still  distinct  (it  is  imper- 
ishable, since  it  is  hewn  in  the  rock) ;  not  long  ago 
it  was  cleared  from  rubbish,  together  with  the  four 
steps  which  led  to  it.* 

If  any  desire  a  more  copious  enumeration  of  the 
temples,  the  halls,  and  the  works  of  art,  which  deco- 
rated the  city  of  Pallas,  they  may  find  it  in  Pau- 
sanias.  Even  in  his  time,  how  much,  if  not  the 
larger  part,  yet  the  best,  had  been  removed  ;  how 
much  had  been  injured  and  destroyed  in  the'  wars  ; 
and  yet  when  we  read  what  was  still  there,  we 
naturally  ask  with  respect  to  Athens  (as  with  res- 

*  Chateaubriand.  Itineraire,  vol.  i.  p.  184. 


3O  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

pect  to  so  many  other  Grecian  cities),  where  could 
all  this  have  found  room  ?  The  whole  country  round 
Athens,  particularly  the  long  road  to  the  Piraeeus, 
was  ornamented  with  monuments  of  all  kinds,  espe- 
cially with  the  tombs  of  great  poets,  warriors,  and 
statesmen,  who  did  not  often  remain  after  death  with- 
out expressions  of  public  gratitude,  which  were 
given  so  much  the  less  frequently  during  their  lives. 
A  double  wall,  called  the  Northern  and  Southern, 
enclosed  the  road,  which  was  nearly  five  miles  long, 
on  both  sides,  and  embraced  the  two  harbours  of 
Piraeeus  and  Phalereus.  This  wall,  designed  and 
executed  by  Themistocles,  was  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant works  of  the  Athenians.  It  was  forty  Grecian 
ells  in  height,  built  entirely  of  freestone,  and  so 
broad,  that  two  baggage-wagons  could  pass  each  other. 
The  Piraeeus,  to  which  it  led,  formed  (as  did  Phalerae) 
a  city  by  itself  with  its  own  public  squares,  temples, 
market-places,  and  the  commercial  crowd  which  en- 
livened it ;  and  it  seemed  perhaps  even  more  animat- 
ed than  Athens.*  Its  harbour,  well  provided  with 
docks  and  magazines,  was  spacious  enough  to  hold  in 
its  three  divisions  four  hundred  triremes  ;  whilst  the 
Phalereus  and  Munychius  could  each  accommodate  only 
about  fifty.f  All  three  were  formed  naturally  by  the 
bays  of  the  coast ;  but  the  Piraeeus  excelled  the  others 
not  only  in  extent,  but  also  in  security. 

The  plain  of  Athens  was  surrounded  on  three 
sides  by  mountains,  which  formed  its  limits  within  no 

*The  Pirseeus  was  sometimes  reckoned  as  a  part  of  Athens  ;  and  this 
explains  how  it  was  possible  to  say,  that  the  city  was  two  hundred  stadia  in 
circumference.  Dio  Chrysost.  Or.  vi. 

t  The  rich  compilations  of  Meursius  on  the  Piraeus,  no  less  than  on 
Athens,  the  Acropolis,  the  Ceramicus,  fcc.  (Gronov.  Thes.  Ant.  Gr.  vol.  ii. 
iii.)  contain  almost  all  the  passages  of  the  ancients  respecting  them. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  31 

very  great  distance  of  the  city.  The  prospect  from 
the  Acropolis  and  the  Parthenon  commanded  on  the 
east  the  two  peaks  of  Hymettus  ;  on  the  north,  Pen- 
telicus  with  its  quarries  of  marble;  to  the  northwest, 
the  Cithseron  was  seen  at  a  great  distance,  rising 
above  the  smaller  mountains ;  and  Laurium,  rich  in 
silver  mines,  lay  to  the  southeast  almost  at  the  end  of 
the  peninsula ;  but  towards  the  southwest,  the  eye 
could  freely  range  over  the  harbours  and  the  Saronic 
bay,  with  the  islands  of  Salamis  and  ^Egina,  as 
far  as  the  elevated  citadel  of  Corinth.*  Many  of  the 
chief  places  of  the  cantons  (^o<),  into  which  Attica 
was  divided,  (and  of  these  there  were  more  than  one 
hundred  and  seventy)  might  also  be  seen;  and 
the  situation  was  distinct  even  of  the  towns,  which 
covered  the  mountains.  No  one  of  these  was  impor- 
tant as  a  city,  and  yet  there  were  few,  which  had  not 
something  worthy  of  observation,  their  statues,  altars, 
and  temples  ;  for  to  whatever  part  of  his  country  the 
Athenian  strayed,  he  needed  to  behold  something, 
which  might  remind  him  that  he  was  in  Attica. 
There  were  many,  of  which  the  name  alone  awakened 
proud  recollections ;  and  no  one  was  so  far  from 
Athens,  that  more  than  a  day  needed  to  be  spent  on 
the  road  to  it.  It  required  but  about  five  hours  to 
reach  the  long  but  narrow  plainf  of  Marathon,  on  the 
opposite  coast  of  Attica.  It  was  twenty-five  miles  to 
Sunium  which  lay  at  the  southern  extremity  of  the 
peninsula,  and  about  twenty  miles  to  the  boundary  of 
Bceotia. 

*  Chateaubriand.  Itioeraire,  etc.  i.  p.  206. 
t  Chandler's  Travels,  p.  163. 


32  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

This  country,  so  frequently  enveloped  in  clouds, 
jay  to  the  northwest  of  Attica,  and  exhibited,  in 
almost  every  respect,  a  different  character.  Bceotia 
was  shut  in  by  the  chain  of  Helicon,  Cithaeron, 
Parnassus,  and,  towards  the  sea,  Ptoas ;  which 
mountains  enclosed  a  large  plain,  constituting  the 
chief  part  of  the  country.  Numerous  rivers,  of  which 
the  Cephissus  was  the  most  important,*  descending 
from  the  heights,  had  probably  stagnated  for  a  long 
time,  and  had  formed  lakes,  of  which  Copais  is 
the  largest.  This  lake  must  have  subterraneous 
outlets;  for  while  the  canals,  through  which  its 
waters  were  anciently  distributed,  have  fallen  into 
decay,  it  has  so  far  decreased  in  modern  times,  that 
it  is  now  almost  dried  to  a  swamp.f  But  these 
same  rivers  appear  to  have  formed  the  soil  of  Bceotia, 
which  is  among  the  most  fruitful  in  Greece.  Bceotia 
was  also  perhaps  the  most  thickly  settled  part  of 
Greece  ;  for  no  other  could  show  an  equal  number  of 
important  cities.  The  names  of  almost  all  of  them 
are  frequently  mentioned  in  history ;  for  it  was  the 
will  of  destiny,  that  the  fate  of  Greece  should  often 
be  decided  in  Bozotia.  Its  freedom  was  won  at 
Platseae,  and  lost  at  Chaeronea  ;  the  Spartans  conquer- 
ed at  Tanagra,  and  at  Leuctra  their  power  was 
crushed  forever.  Thebes  with  its  seven  gates,  (more 
distinguished  for  its  extent  than  its  buildings)  esteem- 
ed itself  the  head  of  the  Boeotian  cities,  although  it 
was  not  acknowledged  to  be  such  by  all  the  rest 
This  usurpation  on  the  part  of  Thebes,  of  a  suprem- 

*  Distinct  from  the  Cephissus  in  Attica. 
t  Bartholdy.  BruchstOcke,  &c.  p.  230. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.        33 

acy  over  Bceotia,  was  of  decisive  importance  in  seve- 
ral periods  of  Grecian  history. 

Boeotia  was  divided  by  mount  Cithaeron  from 
^  Attica,  arid  by  Parnassus  from  Phocis.  This  district, 
of  moderate  size  and  irregular  shape,  extended  to  the 
south  along  the  bay  of  Corinth  ;  and  was  bounded  on 
the  north  by  the  chain  of  (Eta.  Here  are  those  passes 
which  led  from  Boeotia  to  Attica.  Of  these,  the  most 
important  is  near  the  city  Elatea,  and  on  that  account 
was  early  occupied  by  Philip  on  his  second  invasion  of 
Greece.  The  desolate  mountain  of  Parnassus,  once 
associated  with  the  fame  of  Phocis,  presents  to  the 
traveller  of  our  times,  nothing  but  recollections.  Del- 
phi lay  on  the  south  side  of  it,  overshadowed  by  its 
double  peak  ;  and  not  far-  above  the  city  was  the 
temple  with  the  oracle  of  Apollo.  Here  the  master- 
pieces of  art  were  displayed  in  countless  abundance 
under  the  protection  of  the  god ;  together  with  the 
costly  and  consecrated  offerings  of  nations,  cities,* 
and  kings.  Here  in  the  Amphictyonic  council,  still 
more  costly  treasures,  the  first  maxims  of  the  laws  of 
nations  were  matured  for  the  Greeks.  Hither  on  the 
festival  days,  when  the  great  games  of  the  Pythian 
deity  recurred  (games  surpassed  only  by  those  of 
Olympia), pilgrims  and  spectators  poured  in  throngs; 
here  at  the  Castalian  fountain,  the  songs  of  the  poets 
resounded  in  solemn  rivalship ;  and,  more  exciting 
than  all,  the  acclamations  of  the  multitude. 

But  those  blossoms  all  have  perished 
In  the  north's  destroying  blast ! 

*  Many  of  them  had,  as  at  Olympia,  treasuries  of  their  own.  Pliny, 
xxxiv.  17.  estimates  the  number  of  statues  at  Delphi,  as  at  Olympia  and  Ath- 
«ns,  to  have  been  even  in  his  time  3000. 

5 


34  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

Not  even  ruins  have  been  spared  to  us  by  time. 
Only  one  monument  of  doubtful  character  seems  to 
designate  the  spot,  where  CEdipus  slew  his  father 
Laius  ;  and  whilst  every  vestige  of  greatness  and  glory 
has  vanished,  nothing  but  the  memory  of  a  crime  is 
perpetuated.* 

Phocis  and  mount  Parnassus  divide  the  two  parts 
of  Locris  from  each  other.  The  eastern  part,  inhab- 
ited by  the  two  tribes  which  took  their  names  from 
the  city  Opus  and  mount  Cnemis.f  lies  along  the 
Euripus,  or  the  long  strait,  which  divides  the  island 
Euboea  from  Boeotia  ;  and  would  have  almost  nothing 
to  show,  that  is  worthy  of  commemoration,  were  it 
not  that  the  inseparable  names  of  Thermopylae  and 
Leonidas  produce  an  emotion  in  every  noble  mind. 
"  At  Thermopylae,"  says  Herodotus,J  f»  a  steep  and 
inaccessible  mountain  rises  on  the  west  side  in  the 
direction  of  (Eta ;  but  on  the  east  side  of  the  road 
are  the  sea  and  marshes.  There  are  warm  fountains 
in  the  pass,  and  an  altar  of  Hercules  stands  near 
them.  On  going  from  Trachin  to  Hellas,  the  road  is 
but  half  a  plethrum  (fifty  feet)  wide,  yet  the  narrow- 
est place  is  not  there  ;  but  just  in  front  and  back 
of  Thermopylae,  where  there  is  but  room  for  one 
carriage."  Thus  Thermopylae  was  considered  as  the 
only  road,  by  which  an  army  could  pass  from  Thessa- 
ly  into  Hellas,  for  nothing  more  than  a  footpath 
ran  across  the  mountains  :  and  Thermopylae,  not  only 
during  the  wars  with  Persia,  but  also  in  the  age  of 
Philip,  was  considered  the  gate  of  Greece. 

*  Bartholdy.  BruchsUlcke,  p.  251. 
I  Locri,  Opuntii,  and  Epicucunidii. 

*  Herod,  vii.  176. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  35 

The  western  part  of  Locris,  on  the  bay  of  Corinth, 
inhabited  by  the  Ozoli,  was  greater  in  extent,  but 
possessed  fewer  remarkable  objects.  Yet  its  harbour 
Naupactus  has  preserved  its  importance,  while  so 
many  of  the  most  celebrated  cities  have  become  in- 
significant. It  is  now  called  Lepanto,  and  is  perhaps 
the  only  town  of  which  the  modern  name  is  more 
harmonious  than  the  ancient. 

The  western  parts  of  Hellas,  rough  ^Etolia,  and 
woody  Acarnania,  are  indeed  among  the  largest 
districts,  but  are  so  inferior  to  the  rest  in  fame,  that 
the  historian  can  do  little  more  than  name  them. 
Nature  was  here  neither  less  sublime  nor  less  muni- 
ficent ;  both  were  situated  on  the  largest  of  the 
Grecian  rivers,  the  Achelous,  which  flowed  between 
them  ;  both  were  inhabited  by  descendants  of  the 
Hellenes  ;  both  were  once  celebrated  for  heroes  ;  and 
yet  the  JEtolians  and  the  Acarnanians  remained  bar- 
barians, after  the  Athenians  had  become  the  instruc- 
ters  of  the  world. — How  difficult  it  is,  to  comprehend 
the  history  of  the  culture  of  nations  ! 

The  chain  of  CEta,  which  farther  west  receives 
the  name  of  Othrjs,  and  at  last  of  Pindus,  and,  taking 
a  northerly  direction,  is  connected  with  the  mountains 
of  Macedonia,  divides  the  central  part  of  Greece 
from  the  northern.  Thessaly,  the  largest  of  all  the 
Grecian  provinces,  (though  its  extent  cannot  be  given 
with  accuracy,  for  its  boundary  on  the  north  was  never 
defined,)  forms  the  eastern,  and  Epirus  the  western  part 
of  the  same.  There  is  hardly  any  district  in  Greece,  for 
which  nature  seems  to  have  done  so  much  as  for  Thessaly. 
The  mountains  which  have  been  mentioned,  surround- 
ed it  on  three  sides  ;  while  the  peaks  of  Ossa  and  of 


36  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

Olympus,  rose  above  them  on  the  east  along  the 
coasts  of  the  jEgean  sea.  Thessaly  can  with  justice 
be  called  the  land  of  the  Peneus ;  which,  descending 
from  Pindus,  flowed  through  it  from  west  to  east. 
A  multitude  of  tributary  streams  poured  from  the 
north  and  the  south  into  this  river.  The  traditions 
of  the  ancients  related,*  that  it  had  stagnated  for 
centuries,  when  an  earthquake  divided  Olympus  and 
Ossa,f  and  opened  for  it  a  passage  to  the  ^Egean  sea 
through  the  delicious  vale  of  Tempe.J  Thus  the 
plain  of  Thessaly  arose  from  the  floods,  possessed  of 
a  soil,  which  they  had  long  been  fertilizing.  No  oth- 
er district  had  so  extensive  an  internal  navigation ; 
which,  with  a  little  assistance  from  art,  might  have 
been  carried  to  all  its  parts.  Its  fruitful  soil  was 
fitted  alike  for  pasturing  and  the  cultivation  of  corn  ; 
its  coasts,  especially  the  bay  of  Pagasa,  $  afforded  the 
best  harbours  for  shipping ;  nature  seemed  hardly  to 
have  left  a  wish  ungratified.  It  was  in  Thessaly,  that 
the  tribe  of  the  Hellenes,  according  to  the  tradition, 
first  applied  themselves  to  agriculture ;  and  from 
thence  its  several  branches  spread  over  the  more 
southern  lands.  Almost  all  the  names  of  its  towns, 
as  Pelasgiotis  and  Thessaliotis,  recall  some  associa- 

*  Herod,  viii.  6.     Strab.  ix.  p.  296. 

t  To  commemorate  the  event,  a  festival  was  instituted  in  Thessaly, 
called  the  Peloria,  which  festival  seems  to  have  been  continued  in  a  Chris- 
tian one.  Bartholdy,  p.  137. 

J  "  Tempe  forms,  as  it  were,  a  triple  valley,  which  is  broad  at  the  en- 
trance and  at  the  end,  bu/  very  narrow  in  the  middle."  These  are  the 
words  of  Bartholdy,  who,  of  all  modern  travellers,  has  given  us  the  most 
accurate  account  of  Tempe  from  his  own  observation.  BruchstQcke,  fcc.  p. 
112,  be. 

§  Pagasa  itself  (afterwards  called  Demetrias),  lolcos,  and  Magnesia,  which 
last  lay  without  the  bay  of  Pagasa. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  37 

tion,  connected  with  the  primitive  history  and  heroic 
age  of  the  nation.  The  Doric  tribe  found  in  Estiaeo- 
tis  its  oldest  dwelling-places  ;  and  who  has  ever  heard 
the  name  of  Phthiotis,  without  remembering  the  hero 
of  the  Iliad,  the  great  Pelides  ?  Thessaly  was  always 
well  inhabited  and  rich  in  cities.  In  the  interior,  the 
most  celebrated  were  Larissa,  situated  in  the  midst  of 
the  noble  plain,  and  Pherse  ;  lolcos,  from  whence  the 
Argonauts  took  their  departure,  and  Magnesia,  were 
on  the  seacoast.  But  it  was  perhaps  the  very  fer- 
tility of  the  soil,  which  ruined  the  Thessalians.  They 
rioted  in  sensual  enjoyments ;  they  were  celebrated 
for  banquets,  and  not  for  works  of  genius  ;  and  al- 
though Olympus,  the  mountain  of  the  gods,  was  on 
the  boundary  of  their  land,  nothing  godlike  was  ever 
unfolded  with  its  precints.  Is  it  strange  that  in  the 
midst  of  such  gross  sensuality,  the  love  of  self  over- 
powered the  love  of  country ;  that  neither  heroes 
nor  poets  were  created  among  them  by  the  inspirations 
of  patriotism?  Anarchy  and  tyranny  commonly 
followed  each  other  in  regular  succession ;  and  thus 
Thessaly,  always  ripe  for  foreign  subjugation,  cower- 
ed of  itself  beneath  the  yoke  of  the  Persians,  and 
afterwards  under  that  of  Philip. 

On  tte  opposite  side  of  the  Peneus,  the  pure  race 
and  language  of  the  Hellenes  were  not  to  be  found. 
Other  nations,  probably  of  Illyrian  descent,  dwelt 
there ;  the  Pervhsebi,  the  Athamanes,  and  others ; 
who,  as  Strabo  relates,  sometimes  claimed  to  belong  to 
the  Thessalians,  and  sometimes  to  the  Macedonians.* 
The  case  was  not  different  in  Epirus,  which  lay  to  the 
west.  The  house  of  the  ^Eacidse,  a  Grecian  family, 

*  Strabo,  vii.  p.  222. 


38  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

the  descendants  of  Achilles,  were  indeed  the  rulers 
over  the  Molossi ;  and  the  oracle  of  the  Jupiter  of 
the  Hellenes  was  heard  in  the  sacred  grove  of  Dodo- 
na ;  but  still  the  larger  portion  of  the  inhabitants 
seems  hardly  to  have  been  of  the  Grecian  race. 

The  main  land  of  Hellas  was  surrounded  by  a 
coronet  of  islands,  which  were  gradually  occupied 
by  the  Hellenes,  and  came  to  be  considered  as  parts 
of  their  country.  They  rose  above  the  sea  in  beauti- 
ful verdure,  and  were  surmounted  by  rocky  hills.  We 
can  hardly  doubt,  that  we  see  in  them  the  remains  of 
an  earlier  world  ;  when  the  waters  which  covered  the 
middle  parts  of  Asia,  and  the  deserts  of  northern 
Africa,  retired,  leaving  behind  them  the  Euxine  and 
the  Mediterranean  sea  as  two  vast  reservoirs.  Each 
of  those  islands  commonly  bore  the  name  of  the  chief 
town,  of  which  it  formed  the  territory  ;  with  the 
exception  of  the  three  large  islands  Euboea,  Crete, 
and  Cyprus,  each  of  which  contained  several  cities. 
Almost  every  one  of  them  possessed  its  own  remark- 
able objects  and  its  own  claims  to  fame.  Fruitful 
CorcNra*  boasted  then,  as  it  does  now,  of  its  har- 
bour and  its  ships.  Ithaca,  small  as  it  is,  shares  the 
immortality  of  Ulysses  and  Homer.  Cythera,  in  the 
south,  was  the  residence  of  the  Paphian  goddess.  j£gi- 
na,  unimportant  as  it  seems,  long  disputed  with  Athens 
the  sovereignty  of  the  sea.  What  Greek  could  hear 
Salamis  named,  without  feeling  a  superiority  over  the 
barbarians?  Eubosa  was  celebrated  for  its  fruitful- 
ness  ;  Thasos  for  its  gold  mines ;  Samothrace  for  its 
mysteries;  and  in  the  labyrinth  of  the  Cyclades  and 
Sporades,  what  island  had  not  afforded  the  poets  the 

*  Ao\v  Corfu. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.        39 

subject  of  a  hymn.*  Delos  and  Naxus  had  their 
gods ;  Paros  its  marble ;  Melos  its  misfortunes.f 
If  so  many  of  them  are  now  desolate ;  if  the  alluring 
Cythera  has  become  a  naked  rock;  if  Samos  is  poison- 
ed by  its  swamps  ;  if  nature  herself  seems  to  have 
grown  old  ;  shall  we  draw  an  inference  from  this  with 
reference  to  ancient  times  ?  The  Etesian  winds  blow 
certainly  with  more  piercing  roughness,  now  that  the 
tops  of  the  mountains  are  naked;  the  brooks  stagnate 
in  the  desolate  plains  ;  but  the  change  of  seasons  even 
now  produces  varying  scenes ;  and  the  traveller,  who 
at  one  time  finds  the  Archipelago  melancholy  and 
waste,  a  few  months  later  may  contemplate  a  smiling 
prospect.  if  In  spring,  these  islands  are  covered  with 
green  turf,  with  anemones  and  flowers  of  all  colours. 
But  in  the  month  of  August,  when  the  northerly 
winds  prevail,  every  thing  is  burnt  and  dried  up,  and 
the  parched  fields  produce  no  herbage  again  before 
autumn."| 

This  view  of  Greece,  though  it  cannot  claim  to  be 
considered  a  regular  description,  leads  us  to  several 
remarks,  which  may  perhaps  throw  some  light  on  the 
history  of  the  nation. 

First :  Greece  wras  naturally  so  divided  and  cut  in 
pieces  in  a  geographical  point  of  view,  that  it  could 
not  have  been  easy  for  any  .one  district  to  gain 
the  supremacy  over  the  rest.  Thessaly  could  not 
well  control  the  lands  which  lay  to  the  south  of 
(Eta ;  and  still  less  could  Hellas  sway  the  Pelopon- 
nesus, or  the  Peloponnesus,  Hellas.  Nature  herself 

*  Need  we  montion  the  hymns  of  Callimachus  ? 
tSee  Thucydi«les,v.  116. 

t  Bartholdy.  Hriiehstdcke,  &c.  p.  194.  The  whole  description  of  the 
Archipelago  by  this  traveller,  is  worthy  of  being  consulted. 


40  CHAPTER  FIRST. 

had  erected  breastworks  for  those,  who  desired  and 
who  knew  how  to  be  free.  It  was  easy  to  defend 
Thermopylae,  or  the  Isthmus.  We  do  not  here  take 
into  consideration  the  superior  power  of  a  foreign 
conqueror ;  but  even  that  could  have  effected  little, 
so  long  as  the  nation  refused  to  forge  its  own  chains. 

Again  :  If  Greece  was  excelled  by  many  countries 
in  fertility,  it  would  yet  be  difficult,  and,  at  least  in 
Europe,  impossible  to  find  a  land  of  such  limited 
extent,  where  nature  had  done  so  much  to  prepare  for 
the  various  branches  of  industry.  Greece  was  not 
merely  an  agricultural,  or  a  commercial  country,  or  a 
land  fitted  for  pasturing  ;  it  was  all,  at  once  ;  but  dif- 
ferent parts  of  it  had  different  degrees  of  aptitude  for 
the  one  or  the  other.  The  fruitful  Mtssenia  was  fit 
for  the  growth  of  corn ;  Arcadia  for  the  nurture  of 
cattle.  Attica  was  proud  of  its  oil,  and  the  honey  of 
Hymettus ;  Thessaly  of  its  horses.  Of  mines,  there 
were  not  many ;  still  they  were  not  unknown  in  Lau- 
rium  and  Thasos.  The  maritime  towns  were  suited 
for  trade  and  commerce ;  and  the  coasts,  indented 
with  bays,  and  the  islands,  invited  to  navigation. 
This  variety  of  pursuits  in  active  life  may  have  been 
the  cause  of  an  extensive  intellectual  culture,  which 
was  directed  to  many  objects,  and  perhaps  laid  the 
foundation  for  the  farther  improvement  of  the  nation. 

Lastly  :  No  other  country  in  Europe  was  so  fa- 
vourably situated  for  holding  commerce  with  the  oldest 
cultivated  nations  of  the  western  world.  On  the  way 
to  Asia  Minor  and  Phoenicia,  one  island  almost  touched 
upon  another.  It  was  easy  ^o  cross  into  Italy ;  and 
the  coasts  of  Egypt  were  not  far  distant.  Even  in 
the  times  of  fable,  a  path  was  discovered  from  the 


GEOGRAPHICAL  VIEW  OF  GREECE.  41 

shores  of  Thessaly  to  those  of  Colchis ;  and  how  much 
earlier,  and  with  how  much  greater  facility,  to  those 
countries,  where  no  rocks,  like  the  Symplegades, 
opposed  the  passage  of  the  daring  Argo  ? 


42  CHAPTER  SECOND. 


CHAPTER  II. 


EARLIEST  CONDITION  OF  THE  NATION  ;  AND  ITS  BRANCHES. 

THE  nation  of  the  Hellenes,  as  they  called  them- 
selves after  an  ancient  leader,  (for  they  received  the 
name  of  Greeks  from  foreigners,)  preserved  many  a 
tradition  respecting  their  earliest  state,  representing 
them  to  have  been  nearly  on  a  level  with  the  savage 
tribes  which  now  wander  in  the  forests  of  North  Amer- 
ica.* From  these  traditions,  it  would  seem,  that 
there  was  once  a  time,  when  they  had  no  agriculture, 
but  lived  on  the  spontaneous  produce  of  the  woods ; 
and  when  even  fire  could  not  be  appropriated  to  the 
service  of  man,  till  it  had  first  been  stolen  from  Hea- 
ven. Yet,  in  the  meanwhile,  they  gradually  spread 
over  the  country,  which  they  afterwards  possessed ;  and 
all  foreign  tribes  were  either  driven  from  the  soil,  or 
were  mingled  with  them.  Much  is  told  of  the  emigra- 
tion of  individual  tribes,  from  the  southern  districts  to 
the  northern,  and  from  these  back  again  into  the  south- 
ern :  but  the  peculiar  habits  of  nomades,  as  seen  in 
the  nations  of  middle  Asia,  belonged  to  the  Greeks  as 
little  as  to  the  Germanic  race.  The  moderate  extent 
and  the  hilly  character  of  their  country,  which  afford- 
ed no  pasture  for  large  flocks,  did  not  admit  of  that 
kind  of  life. 

As  far  as  we  can  judge  from  the  very  indefinite  ac- 
counts of  this  early  period,  it  seems  that,  especially  in 

".fischyl.  Prom,  vinct.  v.  442,  etc. 


EARLIEST  CONDITION  OP  TtfE  NATION.  43 

the  fourteenth  and  thirteenth  centuries  before  the  Chris- 
tian era,  the  race  of  the  Hellenes  was  already  so  far  ex- 
tended over  Hellas,  that  it  was  every  where  predom- 
inant. For  it  appears  as  such  even  then,  before  the 
Trojan  war.  The  nation  of  the  Pelasgi,  which,  no 
less  than  that  of  the  Hellenes,  belonged  to  the  first 
inhabitants  of  the  country,  and  which  must  be  consid- 
ered as  having  had  a  different  origin,  since  their 
language  was  different,*  may  at  an  early  period  have 
been  the  most  powerful,  but  was  constantly  reduced 
within  narrower  limits,  and  either  emigrated  to  Italy 
and  other  countries  ;  or,  where  it  preserved  its  resi- 
dence, as  in  Arcadia  and  Attica,  was  gradually  min- 
gled with  the  Hellenes,  of  whom  the  power  was 
constantly  increasing,  until  every  vestige  of  it,  as  a 
separate  race,  was  entirely  lost.  Whilst  the  Hellenes 
were  thus  spreading  through  Greece,  the  several 
chief  tribes  of  them  became  more  and  more  distinctly 
marked  ;  and  this  division  was  so  lasting  and  so  full 
of  consequences,  that  the  internal  history  of  the  na- 
tion for  the  most  part  depends  on  it.  Of  the  four  most 
important  branches,  the  lonians,  Dorians,  ^Eolians, 
and  Achaeans,  the  two  first  (for  the  ^Eolians  were 
chiefly  mingled  with  the  Dorians),f  and  the  Achseans 
were  so  eminent,  that  they  deserve  to  be  regarded  as 
the  chief  component  parts  of  the  nation.  It  is  impor- 
tant, in  order  to  become  acquainted  with  the  people, 
to  know  in  what  parts  of  Greece  these  several  tribes 
had  their  places  of  residence.  But  these  places  did  not 
remain  unchanged  ;  the  event  which  had  the  greatest 

*  Herod,  i.  57. 

tEuripides,  enumerating  in  Ion,  v.  1581,  etc.  the  tribes  ef  the  Hellen«i, 
makes  no  mention  of  the  /Eolians. 


44  CHAPTER  SECOND. 

influence  on  them  for  the  succeeding  time,  happened 
shortly  after  the  termination  of  the  Trojan  war.  Till 
then  the  tribe  of  the  Achseans  had  been  so  powerful, 
that  Homer,  who,  as  Thucydides  has  already  observ- 
ed,* had  no  general  name  for  the  whole  nation,  com- 
monly distinguishes  that  tribe  from  the  others; 
which  he  sometimes  designates  collectively  by  the 
name  of  Pan-Hellenes,  f  It  possessed  at  that  time 
almost  all  -the  Peloponnesus,  with  the  exception  of  the 
very  district  which  afterwards  was  occupied  by  it  and 
bore  its  name,  but  which  was  then  still  called  Ionia  ; 
and  as  the  territories  of  Agamemnon  and  Menelaus, 
the  most  powerful  of  the  Grecian  princes,  both  lay  in 
that  peninsula,  the  first  rank  was  clearly  due  to  the 
Achseans.  But  soon  after  this  war,  it  was  the  lot  of 
that  tribe  to  be  in  part  subjugated  and  reduced  to  the 
severest  bondage, J  and  in  part  to  be  expelled  from 
the  lands  where  it  had  resided,  and  confined  to  a 
small  district,  which  from  that  time  was  called  Achaia. 
This  was  a  consequence  of  the  emigration  of  the  Do- 
rians, under  the  direction  of  the  descendants  of  Her- 
cules ;  of  which  emigration  the  chief  object  was  the 
conquest  of  the  Peloponnesus ;  but  it  also  occasioned 
a  change  in  the  places  occupied  by  the  other  tribes 
of  the  Hellenes.  From  this  time  almost  the  whole  of 
the  Peloponnesus  was  occupied  by  the  Dorians,  and 
the  kindred  tribe  of  the  jfEtolians,  who  possessed  Elis ; 

*Thucyd.  i.3. 

f  I  IavsXX»;i>£j  xeu  'A#*/<M,  as  Iliad  ii.  530.  The  Hellenes  of  Homer  are 
particularly  the  inhabitants  of  Thessaly  ;  but  the  expression  Panhellenes  proves 
that  even  then  the  name  had  begun  to  receive  a  general  application. 

t  The  Helots  of  the  Spartans  were,  for  the  most  part,  descendants  of 
the  conquered  Achaeans. 


EARLIEST  CONDITION  OF  THE  NATION.  45 

the  district  of  Achaia  alone  became  the  property  of 
the  Achseans,  who,  being  in  quest  of  refuge,  drove 
from  it  the  lonians.  But  besides  this,  a  large  part  of 
the  rest  of -Hellas  was  occupied  by  tribes,  which, 
though  not  expressly  called  Dorians,  betrayed  by 
their  dialects  their  Doric  origin  ;  Boeotians,  Locrians, 
Thessalians,  and  even  the  Macedonian  Hellenes 
belonged  to  this  class  ;  and  although  the  inhabitants 
of  the  western  maritime  tracts  and  islands  were  at 
first  called  ^Eolians,  their  dialects  were  so  similar, 
that  they  soon  ceased  to  be  distinguished  from  the 
Dorians.  This  powerful  tribe  was  also  extended 
towards  the  east  and  west  by  means  of  its  colonies. 
Several  of  the  islands  of  the  Archipelago  were  occu- 
pied by  them  ;  and  they  flourished  on  the  coast  of 
Asia  Minor,  and  still  more  in  Lower  Italy  and  Sicily, 
and  even  in  Africa  at  Gyrene.  The  Ionic  branch,  as 
far  as  we  know,  kept  possession  of  no  part  of  the  main 
land  of  Greece,  excepting  Attica.*  But  Attica  alone 
outweighed  in  glory  and  power  all  the  rest  of  Greece. 
Most  of  the  large  island  of  Eubo3a  also  belonged  to 
the  lonians ;  many  of  the  small  islands  of  the  Archi- 
pelago were  entirely  occupied  by  them ;  and  while 
their  colonies  in  Asia  Minor  were  decidedly  superi- 
or, their  colonies  on  the  coasts  of  Italy  and  Sicily  were 
but  little  inferior  to  those  of  other  Grecian  tribes. 
From  the  earliest  times,  these  two  tribes  were 
distinguished  from  each  other  by  striking  characteris- 

*The  other  lonians  and  even  the  Athenians  laid  aside  the  name  ;  and 
none  formally  preserved  it  except  those  of  Asia  Minor.  Herod,  i.  143. 
Hence  the  extent  of  this  tribe  cannot  be  accurately  given ;  and  indeed  no 
attempt  should  be  made  to  trace  every  little  Grecian  tribe  to  its  origin,  and 
form  a  tree  of  descent  for  them  all.  This  the  Greeks  themselves  were  never 
able  to  do  ;  but  the  chief  tribes  remained  distinct. 


46  CHAPTER  SECOND. 

tics,  which  were  not  removed  by  the  cultivation  which 
was  becoming  universal.  On  the  Doric  tribe,  the 
character  of  severity  is  imprinted,  which  is  observa- 
ble in  the  full  tones  of  its  dialect,  in  its  songs,  its 
dances,  the  simplicity  of  its  style  of  living,  and  in  its 
constitutions.  It  was  most  strongly  attached  to  ancient 
usage.  From  this  its  regulations  for  private  and 
public  life  took  their  origin,  which  were  fixed  by  the 
prescriptive  rules  of  its  lawgivers.  It  respected  the 
superiority  of  family  and  age.  The  governments  of 
the  Doric  cities  were  originally  more  or  less  the  gov- 
ernment of  rich  and  noble  families ;  and  this  is  one 
cause  of  the  greater  solidity  of  their  political  institu- 
tions. Good  counsel  was  drawn  from  the  experience 
of  age ;  wherever  an  old  man  appeared,  the  young 
rose  from  their  seats.  Religion  among  the  Dorians 
was  less  a  matter  of  luxury ;  but  it  was  more  an 
object  of  which  they  felt  the  need.  What  important 
transaction  did  they  ever  begin,  without  first  consult- 
ing the  oracle  ?  All  this  is  true  of  the  earliest  times. 
When  once  the  reverence  for  ancient  usage  was  over- 
come, the  Dorians  knew  no  bounds  ;  and  Tarentum 
exceeded  all  cities  in  luxury,  just  as  Syracuse 
did  in  internal  feuds.  After  this  tribe  had  once 
emigrated  to  the  Peloponnesus,  not  only  the  ereater 
part  of  that  peninsula,  but  also  of  the  neighbouring 
main  land  of  Hellas  was  occupied  by  it. 

The  lonians  were  on  the  contrary  more  distin- 
guished for  vivacity  and  a  proneness  to  excitement. 
Ancient  usage  restrained  them  much  less  than  it  did 
the  Dorians.  They  were  easily  induced  to  change,  if 
pleasure  could  be  gained  by  the  change.  They  were 
bent  on  enjoyment,  and  seem  to  have  been  equally  sus- 


EARLIEST  CONDITION  OF  THE  NATION.  47 

ceptible  of  refined  gratifications  of  the  mind  and  of  those 
of  the  senses.  They  lived  amidst  holidays  ;  and  noth- 
ing was  pleasant  to  them  without  song  and  dance.  Its 
soft  dialect  brings  to  mind  the  languages  of  the  South 
sea  ;  but  in  both  cases  the  remark  is  found  to  be  true, 
that  a  soft  language  is  by  no  means  a  proof  of  deficiency 
in  warlike  spirit.  In  the  constitutions  of  their  states, 
hereditary  privileges  were  either  rejected  at  once,  or 
borne  with  only  for  a  short  time.  The  supreme 
authority  rested  with  the  people,  and  although  it  was 
limited  by  many  institutions,  the  people  still  decided 
the  character  of  the  government.  Any  thing  could 
be  expected  of  these  states,  rather  than  domestic 
tranquillity.  Nothing  was  so  great  that  they  did  not 
believe  they  could  attain  it ;  and  for  that  very  reason 
they  were  often  actually  successful. 

These  differences  in  the  natural  character  of  the 
most  important  tribes,  needed  to  be  mentioned  at  the 
beginning.  There  are  few  subjects  in  history,  which 
have  been  so  little  illustrated,  especially  with  refer- 
ence to  their  consequences,  as  the  characters  of  nations 
and  their  branches.  And  yet  it  is  these  peculiarities, 
which  in  a  certain  degree  form  the  guiding  thread  in 
the  web  of  the  history  of  nations.  From  whatever 
they  may  proceed,  whether  from  original  descent,  or 
the  earliest  institutions,  or  from  both,  experience 
teaches,  that  they  are  almost  indelible.  The  differ- 
ence between  the  Doric  and  Ionic  tribes,  runs  through 
the  whole  of  Grecian  history.  This  produced  the 
deep-rooted  hatred  between  Sparta  and  Athens,  though 
t)iat  hatred  may  have  been  fed  by  other  causes ;  and 
who  needs  to  be  told,  that  the  history  of  all  Greece  is 
connected  with  the  history  of  those  leading  states. 


48  CHAPTER  SECOND. 

The  difference  of  tribes  and  their  dispositions 
was  also  one  of  the  chief  causes  of  the  subsequent 
political  partitions  of  the  soil.  There  probably  was 
never  a  land  of  similar  extent,  in  which  so  large  a 
number  of  states  subsisted  together.  They  lived, 
both  the  large  and  the  small  ones,  (if  indeed  we  may 
call  these  large,  which  were  only  proportionally  so), 
each  after  its  own  customs ;  and  hence  Greece  was 
saved  from  the  torpor  of  large  empires,  and  was  able 
to  preserve  so  much  life  and  activity  within  itself. 

Of  the  earliest  history  of  the  nation,  we  can  expect 
only  fragments.  We  leave  it  to  the  historian  to 
collect  them  and  to  judge  of  their  value.  But  we 
must  direct  attention  to  those  general  circumstances, 
which  had  a  decisive  influence  on  the  the  earliest 
progress  of  national  culture,  if  we  would  form  correct 
opinions  with  respect  to  it.  Before  we  can  describe 
the  heroic  age,  we  must  explain  the  influence  of 
religion,  of  early  poetry,  and  of  foreign  emigrations, 
and  show  how  they  served  to  introduce  that  age. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES   OF  CULTURE.  49 


CHAPTER  THIRD. 

ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  THE  CULTURE  OF  THE  GREEKS. 

Religion. 

IT  is  not  easy  to  decide,  whether  the  culture  of  a 
nation  proceeds  originally  from  their  sacred  or  their 
civil  institutions.  The  character  of  the  domestic 
relations,  the  proper  application  of  the  means  pro- 
vided for  the  easier  and  more  regular  support  of 
life,  agriculture,  and  husbandry,  constitute  the  first 
foundation  of  national  culture ;  but  even  these  can 
make  but  little  progress  without  the  assistance  of 
religion.  Without  the  fear  of  the  gods,  marriage 
loses  its  sanctity,  and  property  its  security.  The 
earthly  and  the  divine  are  so  mingled  in  our  natures, 
that  nothing  but  a  continued  harmony  between  them 
both,  can  elevate  us  above  the  mere  animal  creation. 
But  it  has  been  wisely  ordained  by  the  Author  of  our 
being,  that  the  feelings  of  religion  can  be  unfolded, 
and  thus  the  character  of  our  existence  ennobled, 
even  before  a  high  degree  of  knowledge  has  been 
attained.  It  would  be  difficult,  and  perhaps  impossi- 
ble, to  find  a  nation,  which  can  show  no  vestiges  of 
religion;  and  there  never  yet  has  been,  nor  can  there 
be  a  nation,  with  which  the  reverence  for  a  superior 
being  was  the  fruit  of  refined  philosophy. 

The  foundation  of  all  religion,  is  the  belief  in 
higher  existences  (however  differently  these  may  be 
represented  to  the  mind),  which  have  an  influence  on 
7 


50  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

our  destinies.  The  natural  consequence  of  this  belief 
are  certain  rites  of  worship;  invocations,  sacrifices,  and 
offerings.  All  this  is  so  connected  with  the  feelings  of 
man,  that  it  springs  from  within  him,  and  exists  inde- 
pendent of  all  research  or  knowledge.  And  this  is 
the  religion  of  the  people.  But  so  soon  as  the  intelli- 
gent spirit  of  man  was  somewhat  awakened,  a  higher 
principle  was  separated  (though  in  very  different 
ways)  from  this  simple  faith  ;  and  that  remained  in  the 
possession  of  a  small  circle  of  priests,  of  the  initiated, 
of  the  enlightened.  If  the  religion  of  the  people 
reposed  only  on  belief  and  indistinct  conceptions, 
certain  doctrines,  on  the  contrary,  belonged  to  those 
higher  circles,  although  they  were  often  represented 
by  images,  and  exhibited  to  the  senses  by  outward 
-ceremonies.  These  two  kinds  of  religion  commonly 
remained  distinct  from  each  other ;  and  the  difference 
was  the  most  clearly  marked  in  such  nations,  as  had 
a  cast  of  priests.  But  still  there  were  some  points,  in 
which  they  both  were  united.  Even  a  cast  of  priests, 
with  whatever  secrecy  they  guarded  their  doctrines, 
could  influence  the  people  only  by  means  of  external 
forms.  But  the  less  the  order  of  priests  is  separated 
by  a  nice  line  of  division  from  the  mass  of  the  people, 
the  more  faint  becomes  the  distinction  between  the 
religion  of  the  people  and  the  doctrines  of  the  priests. 
How  far  the  two  differed  from  each  other,  and  remain- 
ed different,  must  ever  be  an  object  of  learned 
inquiry ;  to  have  confounded  them,  has  been  one  of 
the  chief  sources  of  error  with  regard  to  the  religion 
of  the  ancients. 

Among  the  Greeks  there  never  was  a  distinct  cast 
of  priests,  nor  even,  as  we  shall  hereafter  observe,  a 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OP  CULTURE.         51 

separate  order  of  priesthood.  And  yet,  beside  the 
popular  religion,  they  had  a  religion  of  the  initiated  ; 
and  their  mysteries  were  almost  as  ancient  as  the 
faith  of  the  people.  Each  of  these  must  be  considered 
by  itself,  before  we  can  draw  any  general  conclusion 
respecting  the  influence  of  religion  on  their  char- 
acter. 

The  popular  religion  of  the  Greeks  rested  on  a 
belief  in  certain  superhuman  beings,  and  in  the  influ- 
ence exercised  by  them  over  the  destinies  of  mortals  ; 
on  the  fear  of  offending  them,  resulting  from  this 
belief;  and  on  the  custom  of  worshipping  them.  Yet 
according  to  the  account  of  the  earliest  and  most  cred- 
ible witnessess,  these  divinities  were  not  of  Grecian 
origin ;  and  the  learned  investigations  of  modern 
writers  on  the  origin  of  them  individually,  establish 
the  fact  beyond  a  doubt.*  "The  Hellenes,"  says 
Herodotus,  f  "  have  received  their  gods  of  the  Pelas- 
gi ;  but  the  Pelasgi,  who  at  first  honoured  their  gods 
without  giving  them  particular  names,  took  the  names 
of  their  divinities  from  the  Egyptians. "  This 
account  of  the  historian  has  difficulties,  which  cannot 
be  entirely  cleared  away.  If  it  be  granted,  that 
certain  divinities  and  the  manner  in  which  they  were 
worshipped  came  from  Egypt,  we  may  still  ask,  how 
could  the  names  have  been  of  Egyptian  origin,  since 
the  names  of  the  Egyptian  gods  are  almost  all  known 
to  us,  and  are  very  different  from  those  of  the  Greeks. 
We  learn  of  Herodotus  himself,  that  it  was  common 
for  the  Egyptian  priests,  even  in  his  age,  to  institute 

*  Compare,  above  all,  Creuzer.  Symbolik,  b.  ii.  s.  376,  fcc.  and  Bottiger. 
Kunstmythologie,  Abschn.  i.  Ober  Zeus ;  Absclin.  ii.  fiber  Juno 
i  Herod,  ii.  50.  32. 


52  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

comparisons  between  their  gods  and  those  of  the 
Greeks,  and  to  transfer  the  names  of  the  latter,  to 
their  own  divinities.  And  this  enables  us,  at  least, 
to  explain  how  the  historian,  who  was  accustomed  to 
hear  a  Jupiter,  a  Bacchus,  a  Diana,  mentioned  in 
Egypt,  could  have  thought  the  matter  very  probable. 
But  the  question  is  still  by  no  means  answered.  For  if 
the  Egyptian  priests,  in  the  time  of  Herodotus,  appli- 
ed the  Grecian  names  to  their  gods,  how  can  we 
explain  the  alleged  fact,  that  the  Greeks  first  borrow- 
ed those  names  from  them?  There  are,  however, 
two  circumstances,  which  we  may  infer  from  the  words 
of  Herodotus  himself,  and  which  throw  some  light  on 
the  subject.  The  historian  has  not  concealed  the 
source  of  his  information.  These  assertions  were 
made  to  him  at  Dodona ;  he  heard  then  a  tradition 
of  the  priests  of  that  place.  But  the  oracle  of 
Dodona  derived  its  origin  from  the  Egyptians ;  can 
we  wonder  then,  that  its  priests  should  derive  the 
gods  of  the  Greeks  from  the  same  source  ?  Again  : 
it  is  clear  from  Herodotus,  that  the  Hellenes  did  not 
receive  them  directly  from  the  Egyptians,  but  through 
the  Pelasgi :  that  is,  they  received  them  at  second 
hand.  We  shall  hereafter  remark,  that  they  came 
chiefly  by  way  of  Crete  and  Samothrace.  Could 
such  circuitous  routes  have  left  them  unchanged  ? 
And  is  it  not  probable,  that  the  Pelasgi  essentially 
altered  them  in  their  own  way,  before  delivering 
them  to  the  Hellenes?  Questions  of  this  kind  cannot 
now  be  answered  with  certainty ;  but,  however  many 
of  the  Egyptian  gods  may  have  been  introduced  into 
Greece,  it  is  certain  that  not  all  were  of  thai  origin. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  53 

The  father  of  history  has  not  forgotten  to  remark,* 
that  Neptune,  Juno,  Bacchus,  and  others  were  not 
of  Egygtiau  origin,  and  this  has  been  fully  substan- 
tiated by  the  acute  investigations  of  the  modern 
inquirers,  whom  we  have  just  cited. 

But  to  whatever  country  the  gods  of  the  Hellenes 
may  have  originally  belonged,  they  certainly  did  not 
remain,  in  Greece,  what  they  had  been  before.  We 
need  but  throw  a  glance  on  the  Grecian  religion  to 
convince  ourselves,  that  the  gods  of  the  Greeks  be- 
came entirely  their  property,  if  they  were  not  so 
originally ;  that  is,  the  representations  which  they 
made  of  them,  were  entirely  different  from  the  con- 
ceptions of  those  nations,  of  whom  they  may  have 
borrowed  them.  Wherever  Jupiter,  Juno,  Neptune, 
and  Phoebus  Apollo,  may  have  first  been  worshipped, 
no  country  but  Hellas  adored  the  Olympian  ruler  of 
the  world,  the  queen  of  heaven,  the  power  which 
encompassed  the  world,  the  far-darting  god  of  light. 
And  it  was  the  same  with  the  rest.  What  the  Gre- 
cian touched,  became  gold,  though  before  it  had  been 
but  a  baser  metal. 

But  if  the  popular  religion  of  the  Greeks  was  formed 
by  changing  the  character  of  foreign  gods,  in  what  did 
the  change  consist  ?  What  were  the  characteristics 
of  the  Grecian  assembly  of  divinities  ?  This  ques- 
tion is  important,  not  for  the  history  of  the  Grecian 
religion  alone,  but  for  the  general  history  of  religion 
itself.  For  the  problem  is  nothing  less,  than  to  fix 
on  the  essential  difference  between  the  religion  of  the 
ancient  eastern  and  western  world. 

*  Herod,  ii.  50. 


54  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

This  characteristic  difference  may  yet  be  easily 
discovered  ;  and  may  be  reduced,  we  think,  to  a 
single  head. 

All  inquiries  relative  to  the  divinities  of  the  East, 
even  though  the  explanations  of  individual  ones  may 
be  various,  lead  to  the  general  result,  that  objects  and 
powers  of  nature  lay  at  their  foundation.  There  may 
have  been  first  corporeal  objects,  the  sun,  the  moon, 
the  stars,  the  earth,  the  river  which  watered  the 
country ;  or  there  may  have  been  powers  of  nature,  a 
creating,  a  preserving,  a  destroying  power  ;  or,  which 
was  more  usual,  both  these  may  have  been  combined  ; 
and  visible  objects  become  objects  of  adoration,  in  so 
far  as  they  were  the  expressions  of  a  creating  or 
destroying  power.  When  the  gods  of  the  Egyptians, 
the  Indians,  the  Persians,  the  Phrygians,  the  Phoeni- 
cians, and  others,  are  analyzed,  even  in  cases  where  the 
interpretation  remains  imperfect,  it  cannot  be  doubt- 
ed, that  some  idea  of  this  kind  lay  at  the  bottom,  and 
was  the  predominant  one.  They  had  but  one  signifi- 
cation, as  far  as  this  idea  was  connected  with  it ;  and 
the  sacred  traditions  and  mythological  tales  respect- 
ing them,  seem  to  us  without  meaning,  because  we 
have  so  often  lost  the  key  to  their  interpretation. 
"  The  Egyptians,"  Herodotus  relates,*  '•  had  a  sacred 
tradition,  that  Hercules  once  appeared  before  Ammon, 
and  desired  to  see  his  face.  Ammon  refused,  and 
Hercules  continued  his  entreaties  ;  upon  this,  Ammon 
slew  a  ram,  veiled  himself  in  its  skin,  put  on  its  head, 
and  in  this  plight  showed  himself  to  Hercules.  From 
that  time  the  Thebans  ceased  to  sacrifice  rams  ;  only 
once  a  year,  on  the  festival  of  Ammon,  they  kill  a 

*  Herod,  ii.  42. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  55 

single  one,  hang  its  skin  round  the  picture  of  the  god, 
and  show  at  the  same  time  the  picture  of  Hercules." 
Who  understands  this  story  and  this  festival  from  the 
mere  relation  ?  *  But  when  we  learn  that  the  ram, 
opening  the  Egyptian  year,  is  the  symbol  of  the 
approaching  spring,  that  Hercules  is  the  sun  of  that 
season  in  its  full  power,  the  story,  as  well  as  the 
festival,  is  explained  as  descriptive  of  the  spring, 
and  as  a  figurative  representation  of  the  season 
that  is  beginning.  In  this,  as  in  similar  cases, 
the  object  or  power  of  nature  was  exhibited  under  a 
human  form  ;  for  the  tendency  to  copy  that  form,  is 
too  deeply  fixed  in  our  natures  ;  or  rather  it  results 
immediately  from  the  limitations  of  the  same.  But 
in  all  such  cases  in  the  East,  where  the  human  form 
was  attributed  to  the  gods,  it  was  but  a  secondary 
affair,  the  indispensable  means  of  presenting  them  to 
the  senses.  It  was  never  any  thing  more.  And  this 
is  the  reason,  why  no  hesitation  was  made  among 
those  nations  to  depart  from  this  human  form,  and  to 
disfigure  it  whenever  it  seemed,  possible  to  give,  by 
that  means,  a  greater  degree  of  distinctness  to  the 
symbolic  representation  ;  or  if  any  other  object  could 
thus  be  more  successfully  accomplished.  This  is  the 
source  of  all  those  singular  shapes,  under  which  the 
gods  of  the  East  appear.  The  Indian  makes  no 
scruple  of  giving  his  gods  twenty  arms ;  the  Phrygian 
represents  his  Diana  with  as  many  breasts ;  the 
Egyptian  gave  them  the  heads  of  beasts.  Different 
as  these  disfigurations  are,  they  all  have  their  origin 
in  this ;  the  human  form  was  but  a  subordinate  object ; 
the  chief  aim  was  a  more  distinct  designation  (more 
distinct  in  the  view  of  the  East)  of  the  symbol. 


56  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

As  the  Grecians  received  most  if  not  all  of  their 
gods  from  abroad,  they  of  course  received  them  as 
symbols  of  those  natural  objects  and  powers  ;  and  the 
farther  we  look  back  in  the  Grecian  theogony,  the 
more  clearly  do  their  gods  appear  as  such  beings. 
He  who  reads  with  tolerable  attention  the  earlier 
systems  as  contained  in  Hesiod,  cannot  mistake  this 
for  a  moment ;  and  it  cannot  be  denied,  that  there 
are  traces  of  it  in  the  gods  of  Homer.  That  his 
Jupiter  designates  the  ether,  his  Juno  the  atmosphere, 
his  Phoebus  Apollo  the  sun,  is  obvious  in  many  of  his 
narrations.  But  it  is  equally  obvious,  that  the  pre- 
vailing representation  with  him  is  not  the  ancient 
symbolical  one,  that  rather  his  Jupiter  is  already  the 
ruler  of  gods  and  men,  his  Juno  the  queen  of  Olympus. 

This  then  is  the  essential  peculiarity  of  the  popu- 
lar religion  of  the  Greeks ;  they  gradually  dismissed 
those  symbolical  representations,  and  not  only  dis- 
missed them,  but  adopted  something  more  human  and 
more  sublime  in  their  stead.  The  gods  of  the  Greeks 
were  moral  persons. 

When  we  call  them  moral  persons,  we  do  not  mean 
to  say,  that  a  higher  degree  of  moral  purity  was  at- 
tributed to  them,  than  humanity  can  attain;  (the 
reverse  is  well  enough  known ;)  but  rather,  that  the 
whole  moral  nature  of  man,  with  its  defects  and  its 
excellencies,  was  considered  as  belonging  to  them, 
only  with  the  additional  notions  of  superior  physical 
force,  a  more  delicately  organized  system,  and  a  more 
exalted,  if  not  always  a  more  beautiful  form.  But 
these  views  became  the  prevailing  ones,  the  views  of 
the  people  ;  and  thus  an  indestructible  wall  of  divis- 
ion was  placed  between  Grecian  and  foreign  gods. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  57 

The  former  were  moral  beings ;  this  was  their  leading 
character,  or  rather  all  their  character ;  they  would 
have  been  mere  names,  if  this  had  been  taken  from 
them  ;  but  with  the  barbarians,  their  gods  remained 
only  personifications  of  certain  objects  and  powers  of 
nature  ;  and  hence  neither  a  moral  nature  nor  char- 
acter belonged  to  them,  although  the  human  shape 
and  certain  actions  and  powers  were  attributed  to 
them. 

Having  thus  illustrated  the  essential  difference 
between  the  Grecian  and  foreign  gods,  and  shown  in 
what  the  transformation  of  the  foreign  gods,  adopt- 
ed by  the  Grecians,  consisted,  the  question  arises, 
how  and  by  what  means  did  that  transformation  take 
place  ? 

By  means  of  poetry  and  the  arts.  Poetry  was 
the  creating  power  ;  the  arts  confirmed  the  represen- 
tations which  she  had  called  into  being,  by  conferring 
on  them  visible  forms.  And  here  we  come  to  the 
deciding  point,  from  which  we  must  proceed  in  con- 
tinuing our  inquiry. 

"  Whence  each  of  the  gods  is  descended,  whether 
they  have  always  existed,"  says  the  father  of  his- 
tory* "  and  how  they  were  formed,  all  this  the  Gre- 
cians have  but  recently  known.  Hesiod  and  Homer, 
whom  I  do  not  esteem  more  than  four  hundred  years 
older  than  I  am,  are  the  poets,  who  invented  for  the 
Grecians  their  theogony,  gave  the  gods  their  epi- 
thets ;  fixed  their  rank  and  occupations ;  and  des- 
cribed their  forms.  The  poets,  who  are  said  to  have 
lived  before  these  men,  lived,  as  I  believe,  after 
them." 

*  Herod,  ii.  53. 


58  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

This  remarkable  account  deserves  more  careful 
attention.  The  historian  expressly  remarks,  that  this 
is  his  own  presumption,  not  the  assertion  of  others. 
He  may  certainly  have  been  mistaken ;  but  he  would 
hardly  express  himself  so  explicitly,  unless  he  had 
believed  himself  warranted  to  do  so.  We  must 
receive  his  opinion  therefore  as  the  result  of  such  an 
investigation,  as  could  in  his  age  be  carried  on ;  and 
can  we  do  more  than  he  ? 

He  names  Homer  and  Hesiod  ;  and  naturally 
understands  by  them  the  authors  of  the  poems,  which 
already  bore  their  names ;  the  two  great  epic  poems 
of  Homer,  and  at  least  the  Theogony  of  Hesiod.  The 
case  does  not  become  changed,  even  if  those  produc- 
tions are,  agreeably  to  a  modern  opinion,  the  works  of 
several  authors.  It  would  only  be  necessary  to  say, 
it  was  the  ancient  epic  poets  of  the  schools  of  Homer 
and  of  Hesiod,  who  formed  the  divine  world  of  the 
Greeks  ;  and  perhaps  this  manner  of  expression  is  at 
all  events  the  more  correct.  For  it  would  be  difficult 
to  doubt  that  the  successors  of  those  poets  contributed 
their  share. 

According  to  the  assurances  of  Herodotus,  these 
poets  were  the  first  to  designate  the  forms  of  the 
gods  ;  that  is,  they  attributed  to  them,  not  merely  the 
human  figure,  but  the  human  figure  in  a  definite  shape. 
They  distinguished,  moreover,  their  kindred,  their 
descent,  their  occupations ;  they  also  defined  the 
personal  relations  of  each  individual ;  and  therefore 
gave  them  the  epithets,  which  were  borrowed  from  all 
this.  But  if  we  collect  these  observations  into  one, 
they  signify  nothing  less,  than  that  the  poets  were  the 
authors  of  the  popular  religion,  in  so  far  as  this  was 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  59 

grounded  on  definite  representations  of  the  several 
divinities. 

This  is  not  intended  to  imply,  that  Homer  made 
it  his  object,  to  be  the  creator  of  a  national  religion. 
He  did  but  make  a  poetic  use  of  the  previous 
popular  belief.  But  that  poetic  spirit,  which  left 
nothing  indistinctly  delineated  in  the  heroes  whose 
deeds  he  celebrated,  bringing  before  our  eyes  their 
persons  and  their  characters,  effects  the  same  with  the 
gods.  He  invented  his  divine  personages  as  little  as 
he  did  his  heroes  ;  but  he  gave  their  character  to  the 
one  and  the  other.  The  circle  of  his  gocls  is  limited 
to  a  small  number.  They  are  inhabitants  of  Olympus, 
and  if  they  do  not  all  belong  to  the  same  family,  they 
yet  belong  to  the  same  place ;  and  they  usually  live 
together,  at  least,  when  that  is  required  by  the  pur- 
poses of  the  poet.  Under  such  circumstances,  an 
inferior  poet  might  have  felt  the  necessity  of  giving 
them  individuality.  And  how  much  more  a  Homer? 
But  that  he  executed  it  in  so  perfect  a  manner,  is  to 
be  ascribed  to  the  superiority  of  his  genius. 

Thus  the  popular  notions  entertained  of  the  gods 
were  first  established  by  Homer,  and  established 
never  to  be  changed.  His  songs  continued  to  live  in 
the  mouths  of  the  nation ;  and  how  would  it  have 
been  possible  to  efface  images,  which  were  painted 
with  such  strokes  and  colours  ?  Hesiod  is,  indeed, 
named  with  him  ;  but  what  are  his  catalogues  of  names 
compared  with  the  living  forms  of  Maeonides  ? 

In  this  manner,  by  means  of  the  epic  poets,  that 
is,  almost  exclusively  by  means  of  Homer,  the  gods 
of  the  Greeks  were  raised  to  the  rank  of  moral  beings, 
possessed  of  definite  characters.  As  such  they  gain- 


60  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

ed  life  in  the  conceptions  of  the  people  ;  and  however 
much  may  have  been  invented  respecting  them  in  the 
poetry  of  a  later  age,  no  one  was  permitted  to  repre- 
sent them  under  a  figure,  or  with  attributes  different 
from  those  which  were  consistent  with  the  popular  be- 
lief. We  soon  perceive  the  various  consequences, 
which  this  must  have  had  on  thfc  culture  and  improve- 
ment of  the  nation. 

The  more  a  nation  conceives  its  gods  to  be  like 
men,  the  nearer  does  it  approach  them,  and  the  more 
intimately  does  it  live  with  them.  According  to  the 
earliest  vie.ws  of  the  Greeks,  the  gods  often  wandered 
among  them,  shared  in  their  business,  requited  them 
with  good  or  ill,  in  conformity  to  their  reception,  and 
especially  to  the  number  of  presents  and  sacrifices 
with  which  they  were  honoured.  In  this  manner  those 
views  decided  the  character  of  religious  worship, 
which  received  from  them,  not  merely  its  forms,  but 
also  its  life  and  meaning.  How  could  this  worship 
have  received  any  other  than  a  cheerful,  friendly 
character  ?  The  gods  were  gratified  with  the  same 
pleasures  as  mortals ;  their  delights  were  the  same  ; 
the  gifts  which  were  offered  them,  were  the  same 
which  please  men  ;  there  was  a  common,  a  correspon- 
dent enjoyment.  With  such  conceptions,  how  could 
their  holidays  have  been  otherwise  than  joyous  ones? 
And  as  their  joy  was  expressed  by  dance  and  song, 
both  of  these  necessarily  became  constituent  parts  of 
their  religious  festivals. 

It  is  another  question  :  What  influence  must  such 
a  religion  have  had  on  the  morals  of  the  nation  ?  The 
gods  were  by  no  means  represented  as  pure  moral 
beings,  but  as  beings  possessed  of  all  human  passions 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  61 

and  weaknesses.  But  at  the  same  time  the  Greeks 
never  entertained  the  idea,  that  their  divinities  were 
to  be  held  up  as  models  of  virtue  ;  and  hence  the 
injury  done  to  morality  by  such  a  religion,  however 
warmly  the  philosophers  afterwards  spoke  against  it, 
could  hardly  have  been  so  great,  as  we  with  our  pre- 
possessions should  have  at  first  imagined.  If  it  was 
not  declared  a  duty  to  become  like  the  gods,  no  excuse 
for  the  imitation  could  be  drawn  from  the  faults  and 
crimes  attributed  to  them.  Besides,  these  stories  were 
esteemed,  even  by  the  vulgar,  only  as  poetic  inventions, 
and  it  was  little  concerned  about  their  truth,  or  want 
of  credibility.  There  existed,  independent  of  those 
tales,  the  fear  of  the  gods  as  higher  beings,  who  on  the 
whole  desired  excellence,  and  abhorred  and  sometimes 
punished  crime.  This  punishment  was  inflicted  in 
this  world  ;  for  the  poets  and  the  people  of  Greece 
for  a  long  time  adopted  a  belief  in  no  punishment 
beyond  the  grave,  except  of  those  who  had  been  guilty 
of  direct  blasphemy  against  the  gods.*  The  system 
of  morals  was  on  the  whole  deduced  from  that  fear  of 
the  gods,  but  that  fear  especially  produced  the  obser- 
vance of  certain  duties,  which  were  of  great  practical 
importance,  as,  for  example,  the  inviolable  character 
of  suppliants  (supplices),  who  stood  under  the  partic- 
ular protection  of  the  gods  ;  the  sanctity  of  oaths, 
and  the  like  ;  of  which  the  violation  was  also  consid- 
ered as  a  direct  crime  against  the  gods.  Thus  the 
popular  religion  of  the  Greeks  was  no  doubt  a  support 
of  morality  ;  but  it  never  could  become  so  in  the  same 

*  The  reader  may  here  compare  an  essay  of  Heeren  on  the  notions  enter- 
tained by  the  Greeks  of  rewards  and  punishments  after  death.  It  is  to  be 
found  in  Berlinische  Monatschrift,  May  1785. 


62  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

degree  as  with  us.  But  that  its  importance  was  felt 
as  a  means  of  bridling  the  licentiousness  of  the  people, 
is  sufficiently  clear  from  the  care  which  the  state  took 
during  its  better  days  to  preserve  the  popular  reli- 
gion, and  from  the  punishments  inflicted  on  those  who 
corrupted  it  or  denied  its  gods.  But  if  the  influence 
of  the  popular  religion  on  the  moral  character  of  the 
nation  should  be  differently  estimated,  there  is  less 
room  to  doubt  as  to  its  influence  on  taste ;  for  that 
was  formed  entirely  by  the  popular  religion,  and  con- 
tinued indissolubly  united  with  it. 

By  the  transformation  of  the  Grecian  divinities  in- 
to moral  agents,  an  infinite  field  was  opened  for  poetic 
invention.  By  becoming  human,  the  gods  became 
peculiarly  beings  for  the  poets.  The  muse  of  the 
moderns  has  attempted  to  represent  the  Supreme 
Being  in  action  ;  she  could  do  so  only  by  giving  him 
as  far  as  possible  the  attributes  of  men ;  with  what 
success  this  has  been  attended,  is  known.  It  was  in 
vain  to  endeavour  to  deceive  us  with  respect  to  the 
chasm  which  lay  between  our  more  sublime  ideas  of 
the  Divinity,  and  the  image  under  which  he  was 
represented.  But  the  case  was  altogether  different 
in  ancient  Greece.  The  poet  was  not  only  allowed 
but  compelled  to  introduce  the  gods  in  a  manner 
consistent  with  popular  belief,  if  he  would  not  fail  of 
producing  the  desired  effect.  The  great  characteris- 
tics of  human  nature  were  expressed  in  them  ;  they 
were  exhibited  as  so  many  definite  archetypes.  The 
poet  might  relate  of  them  whatever  he  pleased,  but  he 
never  was  permitted  to  alter  the  original  characters ; 
whether  he  celebrated  their  own  actions,  or  introduced 
them  as  participating  in  the  exploits  of  mortals.  Al- 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  63 

though  themselves  immortal,  they  always  preserved 
the  human  character,  and  excited  a  corresponding 
interest ;  with  their  weaknesses  and  faults,  they  stood 
nearer  to  man,  than  if  they  had  been  represented  as 
possessing  the  perfection  of  moral  excellence. 

Thus  the  popular  religion  of  the  Greeks  was 
thoroughly  poetical.  There  is  no  need  of  a  long 
argument  to  show,  that  it  also  decided  the  character 
of  Grecian  art,  by  affording  an  inexhaustible  supply 
of  subjects. 

On  this  point  a  single  remark  only  needs  here  be 
made.  Among  the  nations  of  the  East,  the  plastic 
art  not  only  never  created  forms  of  ideal  beauty,  but 
was  rather  exercised  in  producing  hideous  ones. 
The  monstrous  figures  of  their  gods,  which  we  have 
already  mentioned,  are  proofs  of  it.  The  Grecian 
artist  was  secure  against  any  thing  similar  to  this,  now 
that  their  gods  had  become  not  merely  physical, 
but  human,  moral  beings.  He  never  could  have 
thought  of  representing  a  Jupiter  or  a  Juno  with  ten 
arms  ;  he  would  have  destroyed  his  own  work,  by 
offending  the  popular  religious  notions.  Hence  he 
was  forced  to  remain  true  to  the  pure  human  figure, 
and  was  thus  brought  very  near  the  step,  which  was 
to  raise  him  still  higher,  and  give  ideal  beauty  to  his 
images.  That  step  he  would  probably  have  taken 
without  assistance ;  but  the  previous  labours  of  the 
poets  made  it  more  natural  and  more  easy.  Phidias 
found  in  Homer  the  idea  of  his  Olympian  Jupiter,  and 
the  most  sublime  image  in  human  shape,  which  time 
has  spared  us,  the  Apollo  of  the  Vatican,  may  be 
traced  to  the  same  origin. 


64  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

Beside  the  popular  religion,  Greece  possessed  also 
a  religion  of  the  initiated,  preserved  in  the  mysteries. 
Whatever  we  may  think  of  these  institutions,  and 
whatever  idea  we  may  form  of  them,  no  one  can  doubt 
that  they  were  religious  ones.  They  must  then  have 
necessarily  stood  in  a  certain  relation  to  the  religion 
of  the  people  ;  but  we  shall  not  be  able  to  explain  with 
any  degree  of  probability,  the  nature  of  that  relation, 
until  we  trace  them  to  their  origin. 

We  must  preface  this  inquiry  with  a  general  re- 
mark. All  the  mysteries  of  the  Greeks,  as  far  as  we  are 
acquainted  with  them,  were  introduced  from  abroad  ; 
and  we  can  still  point  out  the  origin  of  most  of  them. 
Ceres  had  long  wandered  over  the  earth,  before  she 
was  received  at  Eleusis,  and  erected  there  her  sanc- 
tuary.* Her  secret  service  in  the  Thesmophoria, 
according  to  the  account  of  Herodotus,f  was  first 
introduced  by  Danaus,  who  brought  it  from  Egypt  to 
the  Peloponnesus.  Whether  the  sacred  rites  of  Or- 
pheus and  Bacchus  originally  belonged  to  the  Thra- 
cians  or  the  Egyptians,  they  certainly  came  from 
abroad.  Those  of  the  Curetes  and  the  Dactyli  had 
their  home  in  Crete. 

It  has  often  been  said,  that  these  institutions  in 
Greece  suffered,  in  the  progress  of  time,  many  and 
great  alterations,  that  they  commonly  degenerated,  or 
to  speak  more  correctly,  that  the  Grecians  accommo- 
dated them  to  themselves.  It  was  not  possible  for 
them  to  preserve  among  the  Greeks  the  same  charac- 
ter, which  they  had  among  other  nations.  And  here 
we  are  induced  to  ask  :  What  were  they  originally  ? 

*Isocrat.  Panes,  op.  p.  46.  ed.  Steph.  and  many  other  places  i»  Meursii 
Eleusin.  cap.  i.  t  Herod,  iv.  17-' 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OP  CULTURE,  65 

How  were  they  introduced  and  preserved  in  Greece  ? 
And  what  relation  did  they  bear  to  the  popular 
religion  ? 

The  answer  to  these  questions  is  contained  in  the 
remarks  which  we  have  already  made  on  the  transforma- 
tion and  appropriation  of  foreign  gods  by  the  Hellenes. 
Most  of  those  gods,  if  not  all  of  them,  were  received 
as  symbolical,  physical  beings;  the  poets  made  of  them 
moral  agents  ;  and  as  such  they  make  their  appear- 
ance in  the  religion  of  the  people. 

The  symbolical  meaning  would  have  been  lost,  if 
no  means  had  been  provided  to  ensure  its  preserva- 
tion. The  mysteries,  it  seems,  afforded  such  means. 
Their  great  end  therefore  was,  to  preserve  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  peculiar  attributes  of  those  divinities, 
which  had  been  incorporated  into  the  popular  religion 
under  new  forms  ;  what  powers  and  objects  of  nature 
they  represented  ;  how  these,  and  how  the  universe 
came  into  being ;  in  a  word,  cosmogonies,  like  those 
contained  in  the  Orphic  instructions.  But  this 
knowledge,  though  it  was  preserved  by  oral  instruc- 
tion, was  perpetuated  no  less  by  symbolic  represen- 
tations and  usages ;  which,  at  least  in  part,  consisted 
of  those  sacred  traditions  and  fables,  of  which  we 
have  already  made  mention.  "  In  the  sanctuary  of 
Sais,"  says  Herodotus,  l(  representations  are  given  by 
night  of  the  adventures  of  the  goddess ;  and  these 
are  called  by  the  Egyptians  mysteries ;  of  which, 
however,  I  will  relate  no  more.  It  was  from  thence, 
that  these  mysteries  were  introduced  into  Greece."* 
If  we  find  in  this  the  chief  design  of  the  mysteries, 
we  would  by  no  means  assert,  that  this  was  the  only 

*  Herod.  I.e. 

9 


66  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

one.  For  who  does  not  perceive  how  much  may  be 
connected  with  it?  With  the  progress  of  time  a 
greater  variety  of  representations  may  have  arisen 
in  the  mysteries  ;  their  original  meaning  might  per- 
haps be  gradually  and  entirely  lost ;  and  another  be 
introduced  in  its  stead.* 

Those  passages  may  therefore  be  very  easily  ex- 
plained, which  import  that  the  mysteries,  as  has  been 
particularly  asserted  of  those  of  Eleusis,  exhibited 
the  superiority  of  civilized  over  savage  life,  and  gave 
instructions  respecting  a  future  life  and  its  nature. 
For  what  was  this  more  than  an  interpretation  of  the 
sacred  traditions,  which  were  told  of  the  goddess  as 
the  instructress  in  agriculture,  of  the  forced  descent  of 
her  daughter  to  the  lower  world,  &c.  ?  And  we  need 
not  be  more  astonished,  if  in  some  of  their  sacred  rites 
we  perceive  an  excitement  carried  to  a  degree  of 
enthusiastic  madness,  which  belonged  peculiarly  to 
the  East,  but  which  the  Hellenes  were  very  willing 
to  receive.  For  we  must  not  neglect  to  bear  in  mind 

*  The  investigation  respecting  the  mysteries  is  a  very  extensive  one,  and 
yet  very  little  has  thus  far  been  ascertained,  as  may  be  seen  from  the  very 
valuable  work  of  St.  Croix,  especially  in  the  German  translation :  Versuch 
flber  die  alten  Mysterien,  translated  by  Lenz,  1790.  I  refer  to  this  book  for 
the  necessary  citations.  It  does  not  belong  to  the  political  historian  to  pur- 
sue this  investigation  any  farther  ;  he  must  leave  it  to  the  student  of  the  his- 
tory of  religions.  Yet  two  remarks  may  here  be  permitted.  First :  Homer 
and  Hesiod  say  nothing  of  mysteries ;  which  may  very  possibly  have  been 
older  than  those  poets,  but  are  thus  proved  to  have  had  in  their  time  less 
importance  than  they  afterwards  gained.  And  this  is  immediately  explained, 
so  soon  as  the  proper  object  of  the  mysteries  is  discovered,  by  making 
the  difference  between  the  popular  religion,  as  modified  by  the  poets,  and 
the  more  ancient  physical  religion  of  the  East.  Secondly :  The  mysteries 
introduced  from  Crete,  are  said  to  have  constituted  the  public  worship  of  the 
Cretans.  It  was  in  Greece  then,  that  they  first  came  to  be  mysteries.  This 
too  can  hardly  be  more  naturally  explained,  than  by  the  departure  of  the 
popular  religion,  as  established  by  the  poets,  from  the  other  more  ancient 
one. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OP  CULTURE.         67 

that  they  shared  the  spirit  of  the  East ;  and  did  they 
not  live  on  the  very  boundary  line  between  the  East 
and  the  West  ?  As  those  institutions  were  propagat- 
ed farther  to  the  west,  they  lost  their  original  char- 
acter. We  know  what  the  Bacchanalian  rites  became 
at  Rome  ;  and  had  they  been  introduced  north  of 
the  Alps,  what  form  would  they  have  there  assum- 
ed? But  to  those  countries,  it  was  possible  to  trans- 
plant the  vine,  not  the  service  of  the  god,  to  whom 
the  vine  was  sacred.  The  orgies  of  Bacchus  suited 
the  cold  soil  and  inclement  forests  of  the  North,  as 
little  as  the  character  of  its  inhabitants. 

The  secret  doctrines  which  were  taught  in  the 
mysteries,  may  have  finally  degenerated  into  mere 
forms  and  an  unmeaning  ritual.  And  yet  the  mysteries 
exercised  a  great  influence  on  the  spirit  of  the  nation, 
not  of  the  initiated  only,  but  also  of  the  great  mass  of 
the  people ;  and  perhaps  they  influenced  the  latter 
still  more  than  the  former.  They  preserved  the 
reverence  for  sacred  things  ;  and  this  gave,  them  their 
political  importance.  They  produced  that  effect 
better  than  any  modern  secret  societies  have  been  able 
to  do.  The  mysteries  had  their  secrets,  but  not  every 
thing  connected  with  them  was  secret.  They  had, 
like  those  of  Eleusis,  their  public  festivals,  processions, 
and  pilgrimages  ;  in  which  none  but  the  initiated  took 
a  part,  but  of  which  no  one  was  prohibited  from  being 
a  spectator.  Whilst  the  multitude  was  permitted  to 
gaze  at  them,  it  learned  to  believe,  that  there  was 
something  sublimer  than  any  thing  with  which  it  was 
acquainted,  revealed  only  to  the  initiated ;  and  while 
the  worth  of  that  sublimer  knowledge  did  not  consist 
in  secrecy  alone,  it  did  not  lose  any  of  its  value  by 
being  concealed. 


68  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

Thus  the  popular  religion  and  the  secret  doctrines, 
although  always  distinguished  from  each  other,  united 
in  serving  to  curb  the  people.  The  condition,  and 
the  influence  of  religion  on  a  nation,  are  always  closely 
connected  with  the  situation  of  those  persons,  who  are 
particularly  appointed  for  the  service  of  the  gods, 
the  priests.  The  regulations  of  the  Greeks  concern- 
ing them,  deserve  the  more  attention,  since  many 
unimportant  subjects  of  Grecian  antiquities  have  been 
treated  with  an  almost  disproportionate  expense  of 
industry  and  erudition;  but  with  respect  to  the 
priesthood  of  the  nation,  we  are  as  yet  left  without 
any  investigation,  corresponding  to  the  importance  of 
the  subject  The  very  abundance  of  matter  renders 
it  the  more  difficult,  for  very  little  can  be  expressed 
in  general  terms ;  and  many  changes  were  brought 
about  by  time. 

During  the  heroic  age,  we  learn  of  Homer,  that 
there  were  priests,  who  seem  to  have  devoted  them- 
selves exclusively  to  that  vocation.  We  readily  call 
to  mind  a  Calchas,  a  Chryses,  and  others.  But  even 
in  that  age,  such  priests  appear  but  seldom  ;  and  it 
does  not  appear,  that  their  influence  over  the  rest  of 
the  people  was  very  great  and  important.  The 
sacred  rites  in  honour  of  the  gods,  were  not  performed 
by  them  alone ;  they  were  not  even  needed  at  the 
public  solemnities.  The  leaders  and  commanders 
themselves  offer  their  sacrifices,*  perform  the  pray- 
ers, and  observe  the  signs  which  indicated  the  result 
of  an  undertaking.  In  a  word,  kings  and  leaders 
were  at  the  same  time  priests. 

*  Instead  of  all  other  passages,  see  the  description  of  the  sacrifices, 
which  Nestor  makes  to  Pallas.  Od.  iii.  430,  etc. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  69 

Traces  of  these  very  ancient  regulations  were 
preserved  for  a  long  time  among  the  Greeks.  The 
second  Archon  at  Athens,  who  presided  at  the  public 
ceremonies  of  worship,  was  called  the  king  because  he 
had  to  prepare  the  sacred  rites,  which  were  formerly 
regulated  by  the  kings.  He  had  his  assistants  ;  and 
it  was  necessary  for  his  spouse  to  be  of  irreproacha- 
ble character,  as  she  also  had  secret  religious  services 
to  perform.  He  was,  however,  like  the  other  Archons, 
annually  appointed,  and  the  election  was  made  by  lot.* 
The  priests  and  priestesses  of  the  several  divinities 
were  for  the  most  part  chosen.  But  the  priestesses 
could  be  married,  and  the  priests  seem  by  no  means 
to  have  been  excluded  by  their  station  from  partici- 
pating in  the  offices  and  occupations  of  citizens. 
There  were  some  sacerdotal  offices,  which  were 
hereditary  in  certain  families.  But  the  number  of 
them  seems  to  have  been  but  inconsiderable.  In 
Athens,  the  Eumolpidae  possessed  the  privilege,  that 
the  hierophant,  or  first  director  of  the  Eleusinian 
rites,  as  well  as  the  other  three,  f  should  be  taken 
from  their  family.  But  the  place  of  hierophant 
could  not  be  obtained  except  by  a  person  of  advanced 
years  ;  and  those  other  offices  were  probably  not 
occupied  during  life,  but  frequently  assigned  anew.J 
How  far  the  same  was  true  in  other  cases,  is  but  sel- 
dom related.  At  Delphi,  the  first  of  the  oracles  of 
the  Hellenes,  the  Pythian  priestess  was  chosen  from 

*  See  the  important  passage  in  Demosthenes,  in  Neaer.  Op  ii.  p.  1370, 
ed.  Reisk. 

t  The  Daduchus,  or  torch-bearer ;  the  Hieroceryx,  or  sacred  herald  ;  and 
the  Epibomiiis,  who  served  at  the  altar. 

t  St.  Croix  has  collected  examples  in  his  Essay  on  the  ancient  Mysteries, 
at  the  130th  page  of  the  German  translation. 


70  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

among  the  women  of  the  city  ;*  and  was  obliged 
to  have  no  intercourse  with  men.  It  is  hardly 
probable  from  the  extreme  exertions  connected  with, 
the  delivery  of  oracles,  that  the  same  person  could 
long  fill  the  place.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  people  were 
appointed  for  the  service  without  the  temple,  some  of 
whom,  like  the  Ion  of  Euripides,  belonged  to  the  god 
or  the  temple,  and  were  even  educated  within  its 
limits.  But  the  service  within  the  temple  was  per- 
formed by  the  most  considerable  citizens  of  Delphi, 
who  were  chosen  by  lot.f  The  sanctuary  of  Dodona, 
where  the  responses  of  the  oracle  were  made,  as  at 
Delphi  and  in  other  temples,  by  priestesses,  seems 
to  have  belonged  to  the  family  of  the  Seili,  of  which 
Homer  had  heard  ;J  but  we  have  no  particular  ac- 
counts respecting  the  situation  of  that  family. 

The  regulations  respecting  priests,  proposed  by 
Plato  in  his  books  on  laws,§  show  most  clearly,  that 
the  ideas  of  the  Greeks  required,  that  the  offices  of 
priests  should  not  long  be  filled  by  the  same  persons. 
"  Let  the  election  of  the  priests,"  says  he,  "  be  com- 
mitted to  the  god,  by  referring  the  appointment  to 
lot ;  those  on  whom  the  lot  falls,  must  submit  to  an 
examination.  *  But  each  priesthood  shall  be  filled  for 
one  year,  and  no  longer  by  the  same  person ;  he  who 
fills  it,  may  not  be  less  than  sixty  years  old.  The 
same  rules  shall  apply  to  the  priestesses/*' 

*Enripid.  Ion,  v.  1320. 

t  See  the  important  passage  in  Euripid.  Ion,  414 :  "  I,'"  says  Ion,  speaking 
to  the  foreigner  on  the  service  of  the  temple,  "  I  have  charge  only  of  the 
outer  part ;  the  interior  belongs  to  them  who  sit  near  the  tripod,  the  first  of 
the  Delphians,  whom  the  lot  selected." 
}  II.  xv.  235. 
$  Plato,  de  Leg.  1.  vi.  Op.  viii.  p.  266.  Bip. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  71 

We  infer  from  all  this,  that,  though  the  regulations 
respecting  the  priesthood  were  not  the  same  in  all 
parts  of  Greece,  that  office  was  commonly  filled  for  a 
limited  time  only,  was  regarded  as  a  place  of  honour, 
to  which,  as  to  the  other  mysteries,  appointments 
were  made  by  lot,  with  an  examination,  and  was  sub- 
jected to  the  same  rotation  with  the  rest.  They  to 
whom  it  was  entrusted,  were  taken  from  the  class  of 
active  citizens,  to  which  they  again  returned  ;  and 
even  whilst  they  were  priests,  they  were  by  no  means 
withdrawn  from  the  regular  business  of  civil  life.* 
The  priesthood  did  not  gain  even  that  degree  of  firm- 
ness, which  it  had  at  Rome  ;  where  the  priests,  though 
they  were  not  separated  from  secular  pursuits,  formed 
separate  colleges,  like  those  of  the  Pontifices  and 
Augurs ;  and  the  members  of  them  were  chosen  for 
life.  Since  the  priesthood  then,  among  the  Hellenes  in 
general,  and  in  the  several  states,  never  formed  a  distinct 
order,  it  could  not  possess  the  spirit  of  a  party,  and  it 
was  quite  impossible  for  any  thing  like  priestcraft  to 
prevail.  Religion  and  public  acts  of  worship  were  so 
far  considered  holy  and  inviolable,  that  they  were 
protected  by  the  state  ;  and  that  a  degree  of  intoler- 
ance was  produced,  which  led  even  to'  injustice  and 
cruelty.  But  we  do  not  find,  that  the  priests  were 
peculiarly  active  in  such  cases.  It  was  the  people 
which  believed  itself  injured;  or  a  political  party; 
or  individual  demagogues,  who  had  some  particular 
object  in  view.f 

*Not  even  from  the  duties  of  war.  The  Daduchus  Callias  fought  at  the 
battle  of  Marathon  in  his  costume  as  a  priest. 

t  Consult  above  every  thing  else,  the  oration  of  Andocides  on  the 
profanation  of  the  mysteries,  delivered  on  occasion  of  the  well  known 
accusation  of  Alcibiades  and  his  friends.  Did  we  not  know  that  a  political 


72  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

As  the  priests  of  the  Greeks  formed  no  distinct  class 
in  society,  it  is  evident,  that  they  could  have  no  such 
secret  system  of  instructions,  as  was  possessed  by 
those  of  Egypt.  No  such  system  can  therefore  be 
contrasted  with  the  popular  religion ;  instead  of  it 
there  were  the  mysteries ;  but  the  initiated  were 
not  all  of  them  priests,  nor  was  it  necessary  for  every 
priest  to  be  initiated  into  the  mysteries.  Any  could 
be  admitted  to  them,  whose  condition  in  life,  and 
behaviour,  were  found  to  deserve  the  distinction. 

These  regulations  led  to  important  consequences. 
There  was  in  the  nation  no  separate  class,  which 
claimed  an  exclusive  right  to  certain  branches  of 
scientific  and  intellectual  culture  ;  and  preserved  that 
exclusive  right  by  means  of  written  characters,  intelli- 
gible only  to  themselves.  That  which  should  be  the 
common  property  and  is  the  noblest  common  property 
of  humanity,  was  such  among  the  Greeks.  And  this 
made  it  possible,  to  unfold  with  freedom  the  spirit 
of  philosophy.  The  oldest  philosophy  of  the  Greeks, 
as  it  appeared  at  first  in  the  Ionic  school,  may  have 
originally  stood  in  close  union  with  religion,  and  may 
indeed  have  proceeded  from  it;  for  who  does  not 
perceive  the  near  connexion  between  speculations  on 
the  elements  of  things,  and  those  ancient  represen- 
tations of  the  gods  as  powers  or  objects  of  nature.  But 
religion  could  not  long  hold  philosophy  in  chains.  It 
could  not  prevent  the  spirit  of  free  inquiry  from 
awakening  and  gaining  strength ;  and  hence  it  was 

party  was  active  in  that  affair,  it  would  hardly  seem  intelligible  to  us.  It 
gives  a  remarkable  proof  of  the  ease,  with  which  the  passions  of  the  Atheni- 
ans might  be  aroused,  when  any  attack  was  made  on  the  things  they  deemed 
sacred. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES   OF  CULTURE.  73 

possible  for  all  those  sciences,  which  are  promoted  by 
that  spirit,  to  assume  among  the  Greeks  a  decided 
and  peculiar  character.  In  the  intellectual  culture 
of  the  East,  all  scientific  knowledge  is  connected  with 
religion;  but  as  these  were  kept  separate  by  the 
Greeks,  science  gained  among  them  that  independent 
character,  which  distinguishes  the  West,  and  which 
was  communicated  to  the  nations  of  whom  the  Greeks 
were  the  instructors. 

As  the  priests  never  formed  a  distinct  order,  and  still 
less  a  cast,  in  Greece,  the  religion  never  became  a  reli- 
gion of  state  to  the  extent  in  which  it  did  in  other  coun- 
tries. She  was  sometimes  subservient  to  public  policy, 
but  never  became  its  slave.  The  dry,  prosaic  religion  of 
the  Romans  could  be  used  or  abused  to  such  purposes  ; 
but  that  of  the  Greeks  was  much  too  poetical.  The 
former  seems  to  have  existed  only  for  the  sake  of  the 
state ;  and  the  latter,  even  when  it  was  useful  to  the 
state,  appears  to  have  rendered  none  but  voluntary 
services.  The  Patricians  confined  the  popular  religion 
of  Rome  within  the  strict  limits  of  a  system ;  but  in 
Greece,  religion  preserved  its  freedom  of  character. 


Colonists  from  Abroad. 

The  race  of  the  Hellenes  was  always  the  prevalent 
one  in  Greece ;  but  it  was  by  no  means  unmixed. 
The  superior  advantages  of  the  country  invited  for- 
eign emigrations,  and  its  situation  facilitated  them. 
Many  nations  of  Thracian,  Carian,  and  lllyrian 
origin,  descended  at  different  times  from  the  North 
10 


74  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

by  land.*  These  colonists,  at  least  such  as  remained 
in  the  country,  may  by  degrees  have  been  amalgamated 
with  the  Hellenes  ;  but,  being  themselves  barbarians, 
they  could  not  have  contributed  much  towards  soften- 
ing the  manners  of  the  nation  ;  although  the  poets  of 
Thrace  were  not  without  influence  on  them.  The 
case  was  far  different  with  those  who  came  by  sea. 
Greece,  as  we  observed  in  a  former  chapter,  f  was 
surrounded  at  no  great  distance  by  the  most  cultivated 
nations  of  the  western  world,  which  nations  were 
more  or  less  devoted  to  commerce  and  the  founding 
of  colonies.  This  is  well  known  to  have  been  the 
character  of  the  Phoenicians,  and  it  is  equally  certain 
that  it  was  so  of  the  inhabitants  of  Asia  Minor ;  and 
traces  of  Egyptian  colonies  are  found  no  less  in  Europe, 
than  in  Asia. 

If  no  accounts  had  been  preserved  of  colonies  of 
those  nations,  emigrating  to  Greece,  they  would  of 
themselves  have  seemed  highly  probable.  But  we 
are  so  far  from  being  without  accounts  of  this  kind, 
that  they  have  been  much  more  accurately  preserved, 
than  the  remoteness  of  the  time  and  the  condition  of 
the  nation  would  have  authorized  us  to  expect.  The 
memory  of  them  could  not  become  extinct,  for  their 
consequences  were  too  lasting ;  and  if  events  which 
for  so  long  a  time  were  preserved  by  nothing  but 
tradition,  are  differently  related  and  sometimes  highly 
coloured,  the  critical  student  of  history  can  hardly 
make  any  valid  objections  against  their  general  truth. 
The  first  of  the  foreign  colonies,  which  are  mentioned 
as  having  arrived  by  sea,  is  that,  which  under  the 

*  Their  names  are  for  the  most  part  mentioned  by  Strabo,  1.  vii.  p.  222. 
Casaub. 

t  Compare  the  close  of  chapter  1st. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  75 

direction  of  Cecrops,  came  from  Sais  in  Lower  Egypt 
to  Attica  ;*  fifty  years  later,  Danaus  led  his  colony 
from  Chemmis  in  Upper  Egypt,  to  Argos  in  the 
Peloponnesus.  These  emigrations  took  place  at  the 
period,  in  which,  according  to  the  most  probable 
chronological  reckoning,  the  great  revolutions  in  Egypt 
were  effected  by  the  expulsion  of  the  Arabian  noma- 
des  ;  and  the  kingdom  was  restored  to  its  liberty  and 
independence ;  a  period,  in  which  emigrations  were 
at  least  not  improbable.  The  colony,  which,  as 
Herodotus  relates,  was  brought  by  Cadmus,  together 
with  the  alphabet,  from  Pho3nicia  to  Greece,f  needs 
no  farther  proof,  when  we  learn  how  extensive 
were  the  colonies  of  that  nation  ;  we  are  only  aston- 
ished, that  we  hear  of  but  one  in  Greece  ;  since  the 
common  course  of  things  would  rather  lead  us  to 
expect  a  continued  emigration,  such  as  took  place  in 
the  islands,  which  became  almost  entirely  Phoenician. 
Nor  should  we  forget  the  establishment,  made  by 
Pelops  of  Lydia  in  the  peninsula  which  bears  his 
name-l  That  also  was  occasioned  by  the  events  of 
war.  Tantalus,  the  father  of  Pelops,  having  been 
driven  from  Lydia  by  Ilus,  king  of  Troy,  sought  and 
found  in  Argos  a  place  of  refuge  for  himself  and  his 
treasures. 

Yet  very  different  answers  have  been  given  to  the 
question  ;  what  influence  had  the  emigration  of  those 
foreign  colonists  on  the  culture  of  the  Greeks  ?  And 
more  have  denied  than  have  conceded,  that  such  an 
influence  was  exerted.  Where  cultivated  nations 
make  establishments  in  the  vicinity  of  barbarians,  it 

*  This  is  supposed  to  have  taken  place  about  1550  years  before  Christ. 
t  Herod,  v.  58.  t  Strabo.  p.  222. 


76  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

would  be  wrong  to  infer  directly  the  civilization  of 
the  latter,  unless  it  be  confirmed  by  distinct  evidence. 
The  aborigines  of  America  have  been  for  more  than 
two  centuries  the  immediate  neighbours  of  civilized 
Europeans,  and  yet  how  little  have  they  adopted  of 
them  ?  And  if  doubts  were  entertained  in  the  case 
of  the  Greeks,  it  was  chiefly  because  their  whole 
national  culture  was  so  remarkably  different  from  that 
of  those  Eastern  nations,  that  the  former  could  hardly 
seem  much  indebted  to  the  latter. 

Yet  the  testimony  of  the  Greeks  themselves  proves 
such  an  influence  too  clearly  to  be  doubted.  Cecrops 
is  expressly  mentioned,  as  having  first  established 
domestic  union  among  the  inhabitants  of  Attica,  by 
the  introduction  of  regular  marriages  ;  and  as  having 
built  the  citadel  which  afterwards  bore  his  name. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  citadel,  which  Cadmus  built  in 
Thebes  ;  and  if  we  interpret  the  account  of  Herodotus 
respecting  the  introduction  of  the  alphabet  by  him, 
to  mean  only,  that  the  Hellenes  were  indebted  for  it 
to  the  Phoenicians  (which  on  the  whole  can  hardly 
be  doubted),  the  case  would  not  be  changed.  And  if 
Pelops  not  only  emigrated  to  Argos  with  his  treas- 
ures, but  gave  his  name  to  the  peninsula,  the  facts 
admit  of  no  other  interpretation  than  that  his  emi- 
gration was  productive  of  the  most  important  con- 
sequences. 

But  farther.  These  foreigners  not  only  became 
princes  themselves,  but  made  the  royal  power  hered- 
itary in  their  families.  The  earliest  kings  of  Attica, 
Pandion,  JEgeus,  Theseus,  were  all  descended  from 
the  house  of  Cecrops,  although  only  by  the  female 
side.  Perseus  and  his  heroic  family  sprung  in  like 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  77 

manner  from  the  family  of  Danaus.  When  we  name 
Cadmus,  we  remember  at  the  same  time  his  descend- 
ants, the  favourites  of  the  tragic  muse,  Laius,  (Edipus, 
Eteocles,  and  Polynlces.  But  the  posterity  of  Pelops, 
the  house  of  Atrides,  excelled  all  the  rest  in  fame  as 
in  misfortunes.  In  this  manner  the  traditional  history 
of  the  nation  is  principally  dependent  on  these  fami- 
lies from  abroad ;  they  were  not  only  the  oldest 
rulers,  but  the  memory  of  them  continued  to  live  in 
the  mouths  of  the  people  from  age  to  age  ;  till  the 
tragic  poets  conferred  on  them  immortality.  It  is 
impossible  that  such  a  continued  dominion  of  those 
families  should  have  had  no  influence  on  the  nation. 
To  assert  it  would  be  to  assert  what  is  inconsistent 
with  the  natural  progress  of  things. 

If  these  emigrations  seem  to  have  been  occasioned 
by  political  causes,  others  had  their  origin  in  religion. 
In  modern  times  the  savage  nature  of  barbarians 
has  been  tamed  by  missions ;  but  although  antiquity 
knew  and  could  know  none  such,  the  early  part  of 
our  present  inquiries  proves,  that  political  and  mer- 
cantile ends  were  none  the  less  connected  with  sanc- 
tuaries and  oracles.  Greece  received  its  colonies  of 
priests  ;  by  which  we  mean  the  establishments  of 
sanctuaries  by  foreigners,  who  brought  with  them 
their  own  peculiar  forms  of  worship.  The  Homeric 
hymn  to  Apollo  affords  a  remarkable  proof,  that  sucli 
institutions  were  entirely  in  the  spirit  of  the  ancient 
Grecian  world.  When  the  Pythian  god  was  estab- 
lishing his  oracle  at  Delphi,  he  beheld  on  the  sea  a 
merchant-ship  from  Crete  ;  this  he  directs  to  Crissa, 
and  appoints  the  foreigners  the  servants  of  his  newly- 
established  sanctuary,  near  which  they  settled  and 


78  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

abode,*  When  this  story,  which  we  would  not 
affirm  to  be  historically  true,  is  stripped  of  the  lan- 
guage of  poetry,  it  can  only  mean,  that  a  Cretan 
colony  founded  the  temple  and  oracle  of  Delphi. 
And  the  account  given  by  Herodotus  of  the  Egyptian 
origin  of  the  oracle  of  Dodona,  ceases  to  surprise 
us,f  although  that  oracle  owes  its  establishment  to 
another  cause,  the  Phoenician  slave-trade,  by  means 
of  which  two  consecrated  women  were  carried,  the 
one  to  Ammonium  in  Lybia,  the  other  to  Dodona. 
If  we  knew  more  certainly  who  the  Selli  were,  who 
are  thought  to  have  been  a  branch  of  the  Pelasgi,  and 
are  said  by  HomerJ  to  have  been  the  servants  of  the 
god,  and  in  possession  of  the  oracle,  we  should  prob- 
ably be  able  to  say  more  than  we  now  can  respecting 
its  history.  That  it  was  of  Egyptian  origin,  is 
acknowledged  not  only  by  the  sacred  traditions  of 
Dodona,  but  also  by  those  of  Egypt.  It  was  impossi- 
ble for  these  settlements  to  assume  in  Greece  the 
aspect,  which  they  took  in  Africa.  The  character 
of  the  country  and  the  spirit  of  the  people  were  alike 
opposed  to  it;  for  though  the  popular  religion  in 
Greece  was  not  wholly  unconnected  with  politics,  the 
state,  having  never  as  in  Egypt  been  founded  entirely 
upon  religion,  never  made  a  temple  its  central  point. 
But  those  settlements  continued  as  oracles,  of  which 
the  Greek  stood  in  need  both  in  public  and  private 
life. 

Similar  sacred  institutions  arose  very  early  OH 
several  of  the  islands  round  Greece,  and  were  trans- 
planted from  them  to  the  continent.  Those  of  Crete 
and  Samothrace  were  the  most  important.  The  first 

*  Homer.  Hymn,  in  Apoll.  390,  etc.        t  Herod,  ii.64.        *D.  xvi.  234. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  79 

of  these  islands  occupies,  in  many  points  of  view,  a 
very  important  place  in  the  most  ancient  history  of 
Grecian  culture  ;  but  the  culture,  which  sprung  up  in 
Crete,  seems  rather  to  have  produced  early  blossoms 
than  later  fruits.  All  that  we  know  of  the  glory  of 
Crete,  belongs  to  the  age  of  Homer  and  the  preceding 
times.*  The  period  in  which  they  cleared  the  sea 
of  robbers  ;  exercised  supremacy  over  the  islands,  and 
a  part  of  the  country  on  the  shore,  even  of  Attica ; 
and  received  their  laws  from  Minos,  the  familiar  friend 
of  Jove,  belongs  to  so  remote  an  age,  that  it  affords 
less  room  for  certainty  than  for  conjecture.  But  Crete 
still  appears  in  Homer  so  flourishing,  that  hardly  a 
country  on  the  continent  could  be  compared  with  it.f 
The  situation  of  this  large  island  can  alone  serve  to 
explain,  how  it  came  to  precede  Hellas  in  culture. 
It  lay  at  almost  equal  distances  from  Egypt,  Phoenicia, 
and  Greece.  If  it  was,  as  we  are  told,  the  country  of 
brass  and  iron,  and  if  these  metals  were  first  manufac- 
tured there,:}:  the  obscurity  which  covered  the  oldest 
tradition,  is  at  once  removed.  Nothing  more  is  need- 
ed to  explain  the  emigrations  to  tharf?  island,  made  by 
the  Pelasgi,  Egyptians,  Phoenicians,  Hellenes,  and 
others.  §  The  use  of  these  metals  must  have  led  to 
various  inventions.  The  commerce  carried  on  with 
them,  made  the  extirpation  of  piracy  necessary.  And 
it  was  very  natural  that  these  inventions,  ascribed  to 
the  gods,  should  give  rise  to  many  a  pious  supersti- 

*  See  the  rich  compilation  of  Meursius :  Crete,  Cyprus,  R>odes.  1675. 
t  Crete  awes  the  circling  waves,  a  fruitful  soil, 
And  ninety  cities  crown  the  sea-born  isle. 

Od.  six.  172,  &c.  in  Pope  1%  Stc. 

}  The  most  important  passage  is  in  Diodor.  v.  p.  338.  Wechel. 
§  They  are  chronologically  enumerated  by  Diodor.  v.  p.  346. 


80  CHAPTER  THIRD. 

tion,  which  occasioned  sacred  customs  and  mysteries, 
like  those  ascribed  to  the  Curetes  and  Idaean  Dacty- 
li.* The  abundance  of  brass,  and  the  use  of  the 
same  in  manufactures,  as  seen  in  the  heroic  age,  give 
evidence,  that  this  art  must  have  been  very  ancient 
and  very  important.  We  have  the  authority  of 
Strabo,  that  this  invention  was  unanimously  ascribed 
to  the  Cretans  ;f  although  the  traditions  respecting 
ancient  Crete  were  in  other  respects  very  various, 
traditions,  which  had  probably  afforded  subjects  to 
many  poets,  before  they  were  committed  to  writing 
by  the  Cretan  historians,  to  whom  Diodorus  refers. 
We  are  expressly  told  by  the  ancients,  that  the 
invention  and  manufacturing  of  brass  stood  in  imme- 
diate connexion  with  the  religious  institutions  in  that 
island,  when  the  Curetes  and  Dactyli  on  mount  Ida 
are  mentioned,  and  the  manufacturing  of  brass  and 
iron,  the  preparation  of  arms,  and  the  war-dances  are 
attributed  to  them ;  all  which  were  transplanted  from 
thence  to  Phrygia,  to  the  islands  of  Lemnos  and 
Samothrace,  and  from  thence  by  way  of  Thrace  to 
Greece. £  No  branch  of  the  Grecian  religious  history 
is  more  entangled  with  others,  than  this  of  the  Cretan 
religious  institutions ;  and  this  confusion  has  been 
increased  in  part  by  accidental  causes. §  Criticism 
has  done  all  that  it  could  :j|  but  Strabo,  even  in  his 
time,  found  it  impossible  to  disentangle  the  confused 
accounts  respecting  the  Curetes,  Dactyli,  and  Cory- 

*  Diod.  p.  333.  t  Strabo,  x.  p.  326. 

f  See  Strabo  and  Diodor.  1.  c.  etc. 

§  As  for  instance,  the  circumstance,  that  several  mountains  bore  the 
name  of  Ida. 

||  See  Creuzer's  Symbolik.  b.  ii.  s.  227,  and  Heyue  in  Coinrnentat.  S.  G. 
vol.  viii. 


ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  CULTURE.  81 

bantes.  But  that  the  whole  web  is  woven  of  Eg^p- 
tian,  Pho2nician,Pelasgic,and  Phrygian  threads,  can  be 
as  little  denied,  as  the  emigrations  of  those  and  other 
nations  to  Crete.  Should  some  modern  Theseus 
venture  to  descend  into  this  labyrinth,  we  wish  he 
may  find  the  thread  of  Ariadne  in  the  history  of  the 
discovery  and  manufacturing  of  the  baser  metals  and 
their  general  diffusion,  on  which  the  arts  of  war  and 
peace  equally  depended  ;  not  in  order  to  cement  every 
thing  with  this,  and  so  to  frame  an  imperfect  hypoth- 
esis from  but  one  view  of  the  subject ;  but  only  to  show 
us  more  distinctly  the  way,  in  which  the  Greeks  ar- 
rived at  that  point  of  culture,  at  which  we  shall  see 
them  in  the  following  chapter. 


li 


82  CHAPTER  FOURTH. 


CHAPTER  FOURTH. 


THE  HEROIC  AGE;  THE  TROJAN  WAR 

ALTHOUGH  the  history  of  the  progress  of  the 
Greek  nation  during  the  early  period  of  its  culture, 
is  imperfect  and  fragmentary,  the  progress  itself  is 
certain.  In  the  age  which  we  best  designate  in  the 
spirit  of  the  nation  by  the  name  of  the  Heroic  Age, 
and  which  extends  from  about  the  thirteenth  to  the 
eleventh  century  before  the  Christian  era,  we  find  them 
possessed  of  a  far  higher  degree  of  civilization,  than 
that  of  which  by  their  own  accounts  they  were  pos- 
sessed before.  The  poet  who  delineates  them  in  that 
stage  is  never  untrue  to  the  poetic  character ;  and 
yet  Homer  was  regarded  even  by  the  ancients  as  of 
historical  authority  ;  and,  to  a  certain  point,  deserved 
to  be  so  regarded.  Truth  was  his  object  in  his  ac- 
counts and  descriptions,  as  far  as  it  can  be  the  object 
of  a  poet,  and  even  in  a  greater  degree  than  was 
necessary,  when  he  distinguishes  the  earlier  and 
later  times  or  ages.  He  is  the  best  source  of  infor- 
mation respecting  the  heroic  age ;  and  since  that 
source  pours  so  copiously,  there  is  no  need  of  drawing 
from  any  other. 

When  we  compare  the  Greeks  of  Homer  with 
those  of  later  ages,  we  immediately  perceive  a 
remarkable  difference,  to  which  we  must  at  once  direct 
our  attention.  His  Greeks,  to  whatever  tribe  they 
belong,  are  all  equal  in  point  of  culture.  With  him, 


THE  HEROIC  AGE  ;  THE  TROJAN  WAR.      83 

the  Thessalian  differs  in  nothing  from  the  inhabitant 
of  the  Peloponnesus,  nor  the  ^Etolian  from  the  Boeo- 
tian and  Athenian ;  the  sole  points  of  difference 
which  he  marks,  are  merely  personal;  or  at  most 
result  from  the  greater  or  smaller  extent  of  the  several 
territories.  Hence  we  infer,  that  the  causes  which 
afterwards  gave  the  inhabitants  of  the  eastern  part 
of  Hellas  so  great  an  advantage  over  those  of  the 
west,  had  not  then  begun  to  operate.  There 
must  rather  have  been  some  causes  of  general  influ- 
ence, to  produce  that  early  progress ;  and  there- 
fore we  have  less  reason  to  fear  that  we  were  mis- 
taken in  assigning  the  first  place  among  them  to 
religion. 

Yet  religion  had  no  influence  in  exciting  and 
developing  that  heroic  spirit,  which  is  the  character- 
istic of  the  age.  In  those  later  centuries  of  the  mid- 
dle age  which  embrace  the  Christian  heroic  age,  a 
devotional  spirit  formed  a  prominent  feature  in  the 
character  of  a  chevalier ;  but  nothing  like  this  is  to 
be  found  among  the  Greeks.  The  Grecian  heroes 
always  preserve  a  belief  in  the  gods  ;  are  intimately 
and  directly  united  with  them  ;  are  sometimes  perse- 
cuted and  sometimes  protected  by  them  ;  but  they 
do  not  fight  for  their  religion,  like  the  Christian 
knights.  Such  an  idea  could  never  occur  to  them ; 
for  their  representations  of  their  gods  did  not  admit 
of  it.  And  here  we  remark  one  great  point  of  differ- 
ence between  the  Grecian  and  Christian  heroic  char- 
acter. A  second,  to  which  we  shall  return  directly, 
results  from  the  different  condition  of  the  other  sex. 
But  another  prominent  trait  is  common  to  both  ;  the 
propensity  to  extraordinary  and  bold  undertakings, 


84  CHAPTER  FOURTH. 

not  only  at  home,  but  in  foreign  lands,  in  countries 
beyond  the  sea,  and  of  which  tradition  had,  for  the 
most  part,  spread  none  but  indistinct  accounts.  This 
propensity  was  first  awakened  by  the  early  emigra- 
tions of  the  Hellenes.  But  the  exploits  of  the  oldest 
heroes  among  the  Greeks,  Meleager,  Tydeus,  and 
others,  before  Hercules  and  Jason,  were  performed  at 
home  ;  and  even  those  which  are  said  to  have  been 
performed  by  Hercules  out  of  Greece,  are  probably 
a  later  fiction,  invented  at  the  time  when  his  name 
was  first  added  to  the  number  of  the  Argonauts,  and 
the  Grecian  Hercules  was  confounded  with  the  Phoe- 
nician. Adventures  in  foreign  regions  begin  with 
Jason  and  the  Argonautic  expedition ;  and  those 
adventures  were  destined  soon  to  end  in  a  general 
union  of  the  nation  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  on  a 
war  beyond  the  sea. 

As  far  as  we  can  judge  amidst  the  uncertainty  of 
the  chronology  of  that  period,  this  adventurous  spirit 
appears  to  ,  have  been  awakened  in  the  century 
immediately  preceding  the  Trojan  war.  According 
to  all  possible  chronological  combinations,  we  must 
refer  to  this  period  the  expedition  of  the  Argonauts 
and  the  undertaking  of  Theseus  against  Crete  ;  which 
events  happened  soon  after  the  dominion  of  the  sea 
had  been  gained  for  that  island  by  Minos.  The  gen- 
eral condition  of  Greece  in  that  period  explains,  in 
some  measure,  why  the  limits  of  that  country  began 
to  grow  too  narrow,  and  a  new  theatre  for  the  display 
of  enterprise  to  be  sought  for.  The  whole  of  Greece 
previous  to  the  Trojan  war,  appears  to  have  enjoyed 
perfect  tranquillity  within  its  own  boundaries.  The 
limits  of  the  small  districts  into  which  Greece  was  divid- 


THE  HEROIC  AGE  ;    THE  TROJAN  WAR.  85 

ed,  seem  already  to  have  been  definitively  established. 
We  hear  of  no  contention  respecting  them  on  the 
part  of  the  princes ;  and  Homer  was  able  to  enume- 
rate the  several  possessions  with  precision.  The 
war  of  the  seven  against  Thebes  had  its  origin  in 
family  discord ;  and  the  claims  of  the  exiled  Hera- 
clidse  were  not  made  valid  till  a  more  recent  age.  It 
was  on  the  whole  an  age  of  internal  peace,  notwith- 
standing some  interruptions.  In  such  an  age  there 
was  little  opportunity  for  heroic  exploits  at  home ; 
and  what  was  more  natural  than  that  the  warlike 
spirit  which  was  once  roused,  should  go  in  quest  of 
them  abroad? 

But  such  was  the  situation  of  the  country,  that 
this  could  take  place  only  by  sea.  There  was  in  the 
North,  nothing  which  could  invite  the  spirit  of  enter- 
prise ;  and  the  country  in  that  direction  was  possessed 
by  warlike  nations.  On  the  other  hand,  the  reports 
which  came  to  the  Greeks  respecting  the  land  beyond 
the  sea,  were  numerous  ;  even  though  they  may  have 
been  brought  by  none  but  the  Phoenicians.  The 
countries  and  nations  which  were  the  chief  objects  of 
the  voyages  of  that  commercial  people,  the  Cimmeri- 
ans in  the  North,  the  Lotophagi,  and  the  gardens  of 
the  Hesperides  on  the  coast  of  Lybia ;  Sicily  with  its 
wonders,  the  Cyclops,  and  Scylla  and  Charybdis ; 
and  even  Spain  with  the  mighty  Geryon  and  the 
pillars  of  Hercules,  are  dimly  seen  in  the  earliest 
Grecian  mythology.  These  traditions  did  much 
towards  awakening  the  spirit  of  adventure,  and  thus 
occasioned  the  Argonautic  expedition. 

These  early  voyages,  by  which  so  much  activity 
was  awakened,  and  so  much  energy  called  into 


86  CHAPTER  FOURTH. 

action,  were  the  chief  means  by  which  the  circle  of 
ideas  in  the  nation  was  enlarged.  This  is  obvious 
from  those  ancient  mythological  tales,  which  were 
thus  introduced,  and  which  were  the  fruit  of  the  in- 
creased intercourse  with  foreign  countries.  The 
geography  of  Homer,  limited  as  it  is,  not  only  extends 
far  beyond  the  bounds  of  his  native  land  ;  but  shows  a 
manifest  desire  of  discovering  the  farthest  limits  of  the 
earth.  The  ocean  stream  which  flowed  round  it,  is 
mentioned  ;  the  regions  are  named,  in  which  the  sun 
has  the  gates  of  its  rising  and  setting  ;  even  the 
entrance  to  the  lower  world  is  known.  The  obscurity 
in  which  all  this  was  veiled,  served  but  to  excite  the 
adventurous  spirit,  which  was  once  aroused,  to  new 
undertakings. 

The  internal  political  condition  of  Greece  in  the 
heroic  age  was  in  one  respect  similar  to  that  of  a 
later  period  ;  and  in  another  essentially  different.  It 
was  similar  in  the  division  into  small  territories  ;  but 
it  was  altogether  different  in  the  constitutions  of  the 
states. 

The  division  into  territories,  a  result  of  the 
variety  of  the  tribes,  was  in  those  times  as  great,  or 
perhaps  greater  than  in  more  recent  ones.  The 
district  of  Thessaly  alone  contained,  in  Homer's  time, 
no  less  than  ten  small  states,  each  of  which  had  its 
prince  or  leader.  In  the  central  part  of  Greece,  the 
Bceotians  had  five  principalities,*  the  Minyes,  whose 
capital  was  Orchomenus,  the  Locrians,f  the  Atheni- 

*I1.  ii.  catalog,  nav.  1.  &c.  where  also  the  passages  may  be  found, 
which  serve  as  proofs  of  the  following  statements. 

fThe  Opuntii  and  Epicnemidii.  Homer  makes  no  mention  of  the  Ozo- 
te. 


THE  HEROIC  AGE  J  THE  TROJAN  WAR.      87 

ans,  the  Phocians,  had  each  their  own  ruler.  In  the 
Peloponnesus,  there  existed,  independent  of  each  other, 
the  kingdoms  of  Argos,  of  Mycenae,  of  Sparta,  of 
Pylus,  that  of  the  Elians,  divided  under  four  heads, 
and  Arcadia.  Many  of  the  islands  also  had  their 
own  princes.  On  the  west  side,  the  government  of 
Ulysses  embraced,  beside  Ithaca,  the  islands  Zacynthus 
and  Cephallene,  and  Epirus  which  lies  over  against 
it. '  The  flourishing  island  of  Crete  was  swayed  by 
Idomeneus ;  Salamis  by  Ajax  ;  Eubcea,  inhabited  by 
the  Abantes,  Rhodes,  and  Cos  had  their  own  rulers ; 
jEgina  and  probably  others  of  the  small  islands 
belonged  to  the  neighbouring  princes. 

This  political  division  was  therefore  from  the 
earliest  times  a  peculiarity  of  Greece  ;  and  it  never 
ceased  to  be  so.  And  here  it  is  natural  to  ask,  how 
it  could  have  continued  so  long  ?  How  happened  it, 
that  amidst  the  early  civil  wars,  and  especially  the  later 
superiority  of  the  Doric  tribe,  the  supremacy  of  an 
individual  state  was  never  established?  One  princi- 
pal cause  of  this  is  to  be  found  in  the  natural  geo- 
graphical divisions  of  the  country,  which  we  have 
described  in  a  former  chapter  ;  another,  no  less  impor- 
tant, seems  to  lie  in  the  internal  division  of  the  sever- 
al tribes.  Even  where  those  of  the  same  tribe  made 
their  settlements,  they  were  immediately  split  into  sep- 
arate townships.  According  to  these,  the  troops  of  sol- 
diers are  distinguished  in  Homer.  Proofs  of  it  are 
found  in  all  parts  of  his  poems,  especially  in  the  cata- 
logue of  the  ships.  If  these  townships  stood  under  one 
common  head,  they  were  still  united  only  by  a  feeble 
bond.  The  germ  of  division  was  deeply  fixed  even 
in  those  earlier  times ;  and  as  it  unfolded,  it  was 


88  CHAPTER  FOURTH. 

destined  to  mature  the  whole  subsequent  political  con- 
dition of  Greece. 

Yet  though  the  divisions  of  the  country  were  then 
as  numerous,  the  forms  of  government  in  those  early 
times  were  entirely  different  from  the  later  ones. 
We  meet  with  no  governments  but  those  of  princes 
or  kings  ;  there  were  then  no  republics  ;  and  yet  re- 
publicanism was  eventually  to  decide  the  political 
character  of  Greece.  These  monarchical  constitutions, 
if  that  name  may  be  applied  to  them,  were  rather 
the  outlines  of  constitutions  than  regular,  finished 
forms  of  government.  They  were  a  consequence  of 
the  most  ancient  condition  of  the  nation,  when  either 
ruling  families  sprung  up  in  the  several  tribes ;  or 
the  leaders  of  foreign  colonies  had  known  how  to 
secure  to  themselves  and  their  posterity  the  govern- 
ment of  those  who  originally  belonged  to  the  country. 
The  families  of  Peleus,  Cadmus,  Pelops,  and  others, 
have  already  been  mentioned.  It  was  a  great  re- 
commendation of  the  later  rulers,  to  be  able  to  trace 
their  lineage  to  one  of  the  ancient  heroes  or  gods : 
and  Alexander  himself  sought  the  confirmation  of  his 
own  descent  from  the  temple  of  Ammon.  But  though 
much  depended  on  descent,  we  learn  from  observ- 
ing those  ancient  families,  that  it  was  not  only  neces- 
sary that  the  founder  of  the  family  should  be  a 
hero,  but,  if  its  elevation  was  to  be  perserved,  that 
many  heroes  like  him  should  arise  among  his  posteri- 
ty. For  this  the  houses  of  Pelops  and  Cadmus  were 
the  most  illustrious.  But  only  certain  branches  of 
the  family  of  Hercules,  the  first  of  Grecian  heroes, 
were  remembered  by  the  nation,  while  others  passed 
into  oblivion.  The  Greeks  paid  respect  to  birth, 


THE  HEROIC  AGE  ;  THE  TROJAN  WAR.      8& 

yet  they  never  attributed  every  thing  to  birth  ;  and  if 
in  those  republican  times,  the  noble  families  were 
preserved  distinct  from  the  rest,  their  superiority 
depended  Seldom  on  birth  alone  ;  and  no  line  was 
drawn  between  them  and  the  rest  of  the  people,  such 
as  divided  the  Patricians  from  the  Plebeians  in  the 
early  period  of  Roman  history.  The  correct  judg- 
ment of  the  Greeks  is  observable  in  this,  as  in  so  many 
other  things.  The  respect  for  their  illustrious  fami- 
lies was  continued  in  the  recollection  of  their  actions  ; 
but  the  descendants  were  not  long  permitted  to  live 
on  the  fame  of  their  forefathers. 

The  constitutions  of  the  heroic  age  were  the  result 
of  circumstances,  and  wants  which  were  felt.  Esteem 
for  the  ruling  families  secured  to  them  the  govern- 
ment ;  but  their  power  was  not  strictly  hereditary. 
Princes  were  not  much  more  than  the  first  amongst 
their  equals ;  or  even  the  latter  were  also  denominat- 
ed princes.*  The  son  had  commonly  the  precedence 
over  others  in  the  succession ;  but  his  claim  was 
measured  by  his  personal  qualifications  for  the  sta- 
tion, f  It  was  his  first  duty  to  lead  in  war  ;  and  he 
could  not  do  this,  unless  he  was  himself  distinguished 
for  courage  and  strength.  His  privileges  in  peace 
were  not  great.  He  called  together  the  popular 
assembly,  which  was  chiefly,  if  not  exclusively,  com- 
posed of  the  older  and  more  distinguished  citizens.^ 
Here  the  king  had  his  own  seat ;  the  ensign  of  his 
dignity  was  a  sceptre  or  staff.  He  had  the  right  of 

*  As,  in  Od.  viii.  41.  the  fjcnr-rau^tt  (lourttiiit  of  Ithaca. 
t  Observe  the  description  of  the  situation  of  Telemachus  in  this  respect 
Odyss.  i.  392. 

t  Compare  the  description  of  the  assembly  of  Phseacians.    Odyss.  viii. 

12 


90  CHAPTER  FOURTH. 

addressing  the  assembly,  which  was  done  standing.  In 
all  important  events  he  was  bound  to  consult  the  peo- 
ple. In  addition  to  this  he  sometimes  acted  as  judge  ;* 
but  not  always  ;  for  the  administration  of  justice  was 
often  committed  to  an  assembly  of  the  elders,  f  Noth- 
ing was  known  of  particular  taxes  paid  to  the  king. 
His  superiority  consisted  in  a  piece  of  land,  and  a 
larger  part  of  the  booty.  Excepting  this  he  derived 
his  support  from  his  own  possessions  and  the  produce 
of  his  fields  and  herds.  The  preservation  of  his 
dignity  required  an  almost  unbounded  hospitality. 
His  house  was  the  place  of  assembly  for  persons  of 
the  upper  class,  who  almost  always  sat  at  table  with 
him  ;  to  turn  away  strangers,  who  asked  for  shelter, 
or  only  seemed  to  stand  in  need  of  it,  would  have  been 
an  unexampled  outrage.! 

Greece,  even  in  those  times,  was  a  thickly  peopled 
and  well  cultivated  country.  What  a  crowd  of  cities 
is  enumerated  by  the  poet!  And  we  must  not  imag- 
ine these  to  have  been  open  towns  with  scattered 
habitations.  The  epithets  applied  to  them  frequent- 
ly prove  the  reverse.  They  are  in  part  surrounded 
with  walls;  have  gates  and  regular  streets.  §  Yet 
the  houses  stand  by  themselves  ;  having  in  front  a 
court,  and  in  the  rear  a  garden.  ||  Such  at  least 

*  Aristot.    Polit.   iii.    14.      2<rf«<r»)y»j   yij  «»   xai  Imttrrris  e 


T*!» 


t  See  e.  g.  ttoe  representation  on  the  shield  of  Achilles.    II.  xviii.  504. 

t  How  warmly  Menelaus  reproaches  Eteoneus  for  proposing  to  send  the 
strangers  somewhere  else.  Od.  iv.  31. 

§  E.  g.  Athens  with  broad  streets  (i^wtywa).  Od.  vii.  8.  Gortys  with 
firm  walls  («/£*««•«•«)  ;  and  others. 

H  Thus  the  palace  of  Menelaus,  Od.  ii.  ;  and  of  Alcinous,  Od.  vii.  Others 
on  the  street,  II.  xviii.  496. 


THE  HEROIC  AGE  ;  THE  TROJAN  WAR.      91 

were  the  houses  of  the  most  respectable.  Others 
appear  to  stand  directly  on  the  street  without  any 
court  in  front.  In  the  middle  of  the  city  there  is  a 
public  square  or  marketplace  ;  the  common  place  of 
assembly  for  the  citizens,  whether  on  solemn  occasions, 
or  for  deliberation,  or  courts  of  justice,  or  any  other 
purpose.  It  is  surrounded  with  seats  of  stone,  on 
which  the  distinguished  men  are  wont  on  such  occa- 
sions to  take  their  places.*  No  trace  is  to  be  found 
of  any  pavement  in  the  streets. 

The  different  branches  of  agriculture  were  already 
well  advanced.  Property  in  lands  was  universal  ;  of 
which  the  boundaries  were  fixed  by  measurement, 
and  often  designated  by  stones.f  The  poet  describes 
to  us  the  various  labours  of  farming,  ploughing, 
whether  with  oxen  or  mules,  sowing,  reaping,  binding 
the  sheaves,  and  treading  out  the  corn  by  oxen  on 
the  threshing-floor.  Nor  does  lie  omit  to  mention  the 
culture  of  the  grape,  the  tilling  of  gardens,  and  the 
various  duties  of  the  herdsman.!  It  may  be  doubted 
whether  the  soil  was  much  better  cultivated  in  the 
most  flourishing  period  of  Grecian  history. 

The  houses  of  the  heroes  were  large  and  spacious, 
and  at  the  same  time  suited  to  the  climate.  The 
court  was  surrounded  by  a  gallery,  round  which  the 
bedchambers  were  built.  The  entrance  from  the 
court  to  the  hall  was  direct,  which  was  the  common 
place  of  resort.  §  Moveable  seats  (£Wtw)  stood  along 


*  The  city  of  the  Phaeacians,  Od.  vii.  gives  proof  of  all  this. 

til.  xii.421.xxi.  405. 

\  I  need  only  call  to  mind  the  representations  on  the  shield  of  Achilles. 
II.  xviii.  540,  &.c. 

§  The  abovementioned  mansions  of  Menelaus  and  Alcinous  best  illus- 
trate this  style  of  architecture  ;  although  the  description  of  the  mansion  of 
Ulysses  is  in  some  parts  more  minute. 


93  CHAPTER  FOURTH. 

the  sides  of  the  walls.  Every  thing  glistened  with 
brass.  On  one  side  was  a  place  of  deposit,  where  the 
arms  were  kept.  In  the  back  ground  was  the  hearth, 
and  the  seat  for  the  lady  of  the  mansion,  when  she 
made  her  appearance  below.  Several  steps  conduct- 
ed from  thence  to  a  higher  gallery,  near  which 
were  the  chambers  of  the  women,  where  they  were 
employed  in  household  labours,  especially  in  weav- 
ing. Several  outhouses  for  the  purpose  of  grind- 
ing and  baking,  were  connected  with  the  house  ;  oth- 
ers for  the  common  habitations  of  the  male  and  female 
slaves  5  and  also  stables  for  the  horses.*  The  stalls 
for  cattle  were  commonly  in  the  fields. 

Astonishment  is  excited  by  the  abundance  of  met- 
als, both  of  the  precious  and  baser  ones,  with  which 
the  mansions  were  adorned,  and  of  which  the  house- 
hold utensils  were  made.f  The  walls  glittered  with 
them  ;  the  seats  were  made  of  them.  Water  for 
washing  was  presented  in  golden  ewers  on  silver 
salvers  ;  the  benches,  arms,  utensils  were  ornamented 
with  them.  Even  if  we  suppose  that  much,  called 
golden,  was  only  gilded,  we  still  have  reason  to  ask, 
whence  this  wealth  in  precious  metals  ?  Homer  gives 
us  a  hint  respecting  the  silver,  when  he  speaks  of  it 
as  belonging  to  Alybe,  in  the  land  of  the  Halizones.J 
Most  of  the  gold  probably  came  from  Lydia,  where 
this  metal  in  later  times  was  so  abundant,  that  the 
Greeks  were  for  the  most  part  supplied  with  all  they 
used  from  that  country.  As  there  was  no  coined 

*Thus  with  Menelaus,  Od.  iv.  40. 
t  Above  all  in  tl.e  mansion  of  Menelaus. 

JII.  ii.  Catalog,  v.  364.  Without  doubt  in  the  Caucasian  chain  of 
mountains ;  even  though  the  Halizones  and  the  Cbalybes  should  not  be  the 


THE  HEROIC  AGE  ;  THE  TROJAN  WAR.      93 

money,*  and  as  the  metals  were  in  consequence  used 
in  commerce  as  means  of  exchange,  the  manufacturing 
of  them  seems  to  have  been  one  of  the  chief  branches 
of  mechanic  industry.  Proofs  of  this  are  found  in  the 
preparation  of  arms  and  utensils.  We  need  but  call 
to  mind  the  shield  of  Achilles,  the  torch-bearing 
statues  in  the  house  of  Alcinous,f  the  enameled  figures 
on  the  clasp  of  Ulysses7  mantle,  J  &c.  But  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  say,  how  far  these  manufactures  were  made  by 
the  Greeks,  or  gained  by  exchange  from  abroad.  As 
the  poet  commonly  describes  them  to  be  the  works  of 
Vulcan,  it  is  at  least  clear,  that  manufactures  of  this 
kind  were  somewhat  rare,  and  in  part  foreign. §  Gold 
was  afterwards  wrought  in  Asia  Minor,  especially  in 
Lydia;  all  labour  in  brass  and  iron  seems,  as  we 
remarked  above,  to  have  been  first  brought  to  perfec- 
tion among  the  Hellenes  in  Crete. 

These  labours  in  metal  appear  to  have  limited 
the  early  progress  of  the  plastic  arts.  We  find  no 
traces  of  painting,  and  none  of  marble  statues.  But 
those  efforts  in  metal  imply  exercise  in  drawing;  for 
we  hear  not  only  of  figures,  but  also  of  expression  in 
their  positions  and  motions.  || 

The  art  of  weaving,  the  chief  occupation  of  the 
women,  was  even  then  carried  to  a  high  degree  of 
perfection.  The  stuffs  were  of  wool  and  linen  ;  it  is 
hard  to  decide  how  far  cotton  was  in  those  times 

*This  was  probably  one  of  the  chief  reasons  why  so  much  of  it  was 
manufactured. 

t  Od.  vii.  100.  t  Od.  xii.  225,  &c, 

§  As  e.  g.  the  silver  goblet  received  by  Menelaus  from  the  king  of  Sidon. 
Od.  iv.  615. 

||  Beside  the  description  of  the  shield  of  Achilles,  note  especially  Od. 
six.  229,  etc. 


94         «  CHAPTER  FOURTH. 

manufactured  in  Greece.*  Yet  garments  of  foreign 
manufacture,  those  of  Egypt  and  Sidon,  were  esteemed 
the  most  beautiful. f  The  dress  was  decent,  but  free. 
The  female  sex  were  by  no  means  accustomed  to  con- 
ceal the  countenance,  but  were  clad  in  long  robes ; 
both  sexes  wore  an  under  garment,  over  which  the 
broad  upper  garment  was  thrown. £ 

The  internal  regulations  of  families  were  simple, 
but  not  without  those  peculiarities,  which  are  a  natu- 
ral consequence  of  the  introduction  of  slavery.  Po- 
lygamy was  not  directly  authorized  ;  but  the  sanctity 
of  marriage  was  not  considered  as  violated  by  the 
intercourse  of  the  husband  with  female  slaves.  The 
noble  characters  of  Andromache  and  of  Penelope, 
exhibit,  each  in  its  way,  models  of  elevated  conjugal 
affection.  It  is  more  difficult  for  us,  with  our  feelings, 
to  understand  the  seduced  and  the  returning  Helen  ; 
and  yet  if  we  compare  Helen,  the  beloved  of  Paris  in 
the  Iliad,^  with  Helen,  the  spouse  of  Menelaus  in  the 
Odyssey,||  we  find  truth  and  much  internal  harmony  in 
the  character  which  could  err,  but  not  become  wholly 
untrue  to  nobleness  of  feeling.  It  is  a  woman,  who, 
having  become  in  youth  the  victim  of  sensuality,  (and 
never  without  emotions  of  regret,)  returned  afterwards 
to  reason  ;  before  she  was  compelled  to  do  so  by  age. 
Even  after  her  return  from  Troy,  she  was  still  exceed- 
ingly beautiful  ;H  (for  who  can  think  of  counting  her 

*  Compare,  above  all,  the  description  of  Achilles'  clothing,     Od.  xix.  225, 
&c.     The  mantle  (^;X»»«),  rough  to  the  touch,  was  without  doubt  of  wool ;   but 
the  under  garment  (^<r«>)  can  hardly  pass  for  either  woollen  or  linen. 
Fine  as  a  filmy  web  beneath  it  shone 
A  vest,  that  dazzled  like  a  cloudless  sun. 
tAse.  g.  II  vi.  290. 

t  The  passages  are  collected  in  Feithii  Ant.  Homer,  iii.  cap.  7. 
^  In  the  third  book.  P  Odyss.  iv.  and  xv.  tf  Odyss.  iv.  121. 


THE  HEROIC  AGE  J  THE  TROJAN  WAR.      95 

years  ?)  And  yet  even  then  the  two  sexes  stood  to 
each  other  in  the  same  relation,  which  continued  in 
later  times.  The  wife  is  housewife,  and  nothing  more. 
Even  the  sublime  Andromache,  after  that  parting, 
which  will  draw  tears,  as  long  as  there  are  eyes  which 
can  weep  and  hearts  which  can  feel,  is  sent  back  to 
the  apartments  of  the  women,  to  superintend  the 
labours  of  the  maidservants.*  Still  we  observe  in 
her,  conjugal  love  of  an  elevated  character.  In  other 
instances  love  has  reference,  both  with  mortals  and 
with  immortals,  to  sensual  enjoyment ;  although  in  the 
noble  and  uncorrupted  vestal  characters,  as  in  the 
amiable  Nausicaa,  it  was  united  with  that  bashfulness, 
which  accompanies  maiden  youth.  But  we  meet  with 
no  trace  of  those  elevated  feelings,  that  romantic  love, 
as  it  is  very  improperly  termed,  which  results  from  a 
higher  regard  for  the  female  sex.  That  love,  and 
that  regard  are  traits  peculiar  to  the  Germanic  nations, 
a  result  of  the  spirit  of  gallantry  which  was  a  lead- 
ing feature  in  the  character  of  chivalry,  but  which  we 
vainly  look  for  in  Greece.  Yet  here  the  Greek  stands 
between  the  East  and  the  West.  Although  he  was 
never  wont  to  revere  the  female  sex  as  beings  of  a 
higher  order,  he  did  not,  like  the  Asiatic,  imprison 
them  by  troops  in  a  haram. 

The  progress  which  had  been  made  in  social  life,  is 
visible  in  nothing  more  distinctly,  except  the  relative 
situation  of  the  sexes,  than  in  the  tone  of  conversation 
among  men.  A  solemn  dignity  belonged  to  it  even  in 
common  intercourse ;  the  style  of  salutation  and 
address  is  connected  with  certain  forms  ;  the  epithets 
with  which  the  heroes  honoured  each  other,  were  so 

•II.  vi.490. 


96  CHAPTER  FOURTH. 

adopted  into  the  language  of  intercourse,  that  they 
are  not  unfrequently  applied,  even  where  the  language 
of  reproach  is  used.  Let  it  not  be  said,  that  this  is 
merely  the  language  of  epic  poetry.  The  poet  never 
could  have  employed  it,  if  its  original,  and  a  taste  for 
it,  had  not  already  existed.  If  the  tone  of  intercourse 
is  a  measure  of  the  social  and,  in  a  certain  degree,  of 
the  moral  improvement  of  a  nation,  the  Greeks  of  the 
heroic  age  were  already  vastly  elevated  beyond  their 
earlier  savage  state. 

To  complete  the  picture  of  those  times,  it  is  ne- 
cessary to  speak  of  war  and  the  art  of  war.  The 
heroic  age  of  the  Greeks,  considered  from  this  point 
of  view,  exhibits  a  mixture  of  savageness  and  magna- 
nimity, and  the  first  outlines  of  the  laws  of  nations. 
The  enemy  who  has  been  slain,  is  not  secure  against 
outrage,  and  yet  the  corpse  is  not  always  abused.* 
The  conquered  party  offers  a  ransom  ;  and  it  depends 
on  the  victor  to  accept  or  refuse  it.  The  arms,  both 
of  attack  and  defence,  are  of  iron  or  brass.  No 
hero  appeared,  like  Hercules  of  old,  with  a  club  and 
lion's  skin  for  spear  and  shield.  The  art  of  war,  as 
far  as  it  relates  to  the  position  and  erecting  of  forti- 
fied camps,  seems  to  have  been  first  invented  in  the 
siege  of  Troy.f  In  other  respects,  every  thing 
depended  on  the  more  or  less  perfect  equipments, 
together  with  personal  courage  and  strength.  As  the 
great  multitude  was,  for  the  most  part,  svithout  defen- 
sive armour,  and  as  only  a  few  were  completely 
accoutred,  one  of  these  last  outweighed  a  host  of  the 
rest.  But  only  the  leaders  were  thus  armed;  and 

*  An  example,  II.  vi.  417. 

t  See  on  this  subject,  on  which  we  believe  we  may  be  brief,  the  Excur- 
sus  of  Heyne  to  the  vi.  vii.  and  viii.  books  of  the  Iliad. 


THE  HEROIC  AGE  ;  THE  TROJAN  WAR.      97 

they?  standing  on  their  chariots  of  war  (for  cavalry 
was  still  unknown),  fought  with  each  other  in  the 
space  between  the  armies.  If  they  were  victorious, 
they  spread  panic  before  them  ;  and  it  became  easy 
for  them  to  break  through  the  ranks.  But  we  will 
pursue  no  farther  the  description  of  scenes,  which 
every  one  prefers  to  read  in  the  poet  himself. 

As  the  crusades  were  the  fruit  of  the  revolution 
in  the  social  condition  of  the  West,  the  Trojan  war 
resulted  from  the  same  causes  in  Greece.  It  was  ne- 
cessary, that  a  fondness  for  adventures  in  foreign 
lands  should  be  awakened ;  expeditions  by  sea, 
like  that  of  the  Argonauts,  be  attended  with  suc- 
cess ;  and  a  *union  of  the  heroes,  as  in  that  and  the 
march  against  Thebes,  be  first  established  ;  before 
such  an  undertaking  could  become  practicable.  But 
now  it  resulted  so  naturally  from  the  whole  condition 
of  things,  that,  though  its  object  might  have  been  a 
different  one,  it  must  have  taken  place  even  without  a 
Helen. 

The  expedition  against  Troy,  like  the  crusades, 
was  a  voluntary  undertaking  on  the  part  of  those 
who  joined  in  it ;  and  this  circumstance  had  an  influ- 
ence on  all  the  internal  regulations.  The  leaders  of 
the  several  bands  were  voluntary  followers  of  the 
Atridae,  and  could  therefore  depart  from  the  army  at 
their  own  pleasure.  It  is  more  difficult  to  fix  on  the 
relation  between  the  leaders  and  their  people ;  and 
he  who  should  undertake  to  describe  every  thing 
minutely,  would  be  most  sure  of  making  mistakes. 
There  were  certainly  control  and  obedience.  The 
troops  follow  their  leaders,  and  leave  the  battle  with 
them.  But  much  even  of  this  seems  to  have  been 
13 


98  CHAPTER  FOURTH. 

voluntary  ;  and  the  spirit  of  the  age  allowed  no  such 
severe  discipline  as  exists  in  modern  armies.  None 
but  a  Thersites  could  have  received  the  treatment  of 
Thersites. 

This  undertaking,  begun  and  successfully  termi- 
nated by  united  exertions,  kindled  the  national  spirit 
of  the  Hellenes.  On  the  fields  of  Asia,  the  tribes  had 
for  the  first  time  been  assembled,  for  the  first  time  had 
saluted  each  other  as  brethren.  They  had  fought  and 
had  conquered  in  company.  Yet  something  was  still 
wanting  to  preserve  the  flame,  which  was  just  blazing 
up.  The  assistance  of  the  muse  was  needed,  to  com- 
memorate in  words  those  events  of  which  the  echo 
will  never  die  away.  By  preserving  the  memory  of 
them  forever,  the  most  beautiful  fruits  which  they 
bore  were  saved  from  perishing. 


THE  PERIOD  FOLLOWING  THE  HEUOIC  AGE.         99 


CHAPTER  FIFTH. 


I'HE  PERIOD  FOLLOWING  THE  HEROIC  AGE.  EMIGRATIONS. 
ORIGIN  OF  REPUBLICAN  FORMS  OF  GOVERNMENT,  AND 
THEIR  CHARACTER. 

LIKE  the  age  of  chivalry  in  western  Europe,  the 
heroic  age  of  the  Greeks  began  and  ended  without 
our  being  able  to  define  either  period  by  an  exact 
date.  Such  a  phenomenon  is  the  fruit  of  causes 
which  are  rooted  deeply  and  of  continuing  influence, 
and  it  neither  suddenly  ripens  nor  suddenly  decays. 
The  heroic  age  was  not  immediately  terminated  by  the 
Trojan  war ;  yet  it  was  during  that  period  in  its 
greatest  glory.*  It  was  closely  united  with  the  polit- 
ical constitution  of  the  times  ;  the  princes  of  the  tribes 
were  the  first  of  the  heroes.  When  the  constitution  of 
the  tribes  was  changed,  the  ancient  heroic  world  coulJ 
not  continue.  No  new  undertaking  was  begun,  which 
was  so  splendidly  executed  and  closed.  Although, 
therefore,  heroic  characters  may  still  have  arisen,  as 
in  the  times  of  Achilles  and  Agamemnon,  no  similar 
career  of  honour  was  opened  to  them  ;  they  were  not 
celebrated  in  song  like  the  Atridse  and  their  compan- 
ions ;  and  though  they  may  have  gained  the  praise 
of  their  contemporaries,  they  did  not  live,  like  the 
latter,  in  the  memory  of  succeeding  generations. 

In  the  age  succeeding  the  Trojan  war,  several 
events  took  place,  which  prepared  and  introduced  an 

*  Hesiod  limits  his  fourth  age,  the  age  of  heroes,  to  the  times  immedi- 
ately before  and  after  the  Trojan  war.  Op.  et  Dies  156,  &c. 


10O  CHAPTER  FIFTH. 

entire  revolution  in  the  domestic  and  still  more  ia 
public  life  of  the  Greeks.  The  result  of  these  revo- 
lutions was  the  origin  and  general  prevalence  of  re- 
publican forms  of  government  among  them  ;  and  this 
decided  the  whole  future  character  of  their  public  life 
as  a  nation. 

It  ia-still  possible  for  us  to  show  the  general  causes 
of  this  great  change  ;  but  when  we  remember  that 
these  events  took  place  before  Greece  had  produced  a 
historian,  and  when  tradition  was  the  only  authority, 
we  give  up  all  expectation  of  gaining  perfect  and 
unbroken  historical  accounts  ;  and  acknowledge  that 
we  can  hardly  know  more  of  them  than  Thucydides. 

The  emigration  of  the  tribes,  says  this  historian,* 
was  by  no  means  at  an  end  with  the  Trojan  war.  The 
continuance  of  the  war  produced  many  changes ;  in 
many  cities  disturbances  were  excited,  which  occa- 
sioned the  banished  parties  to  found  new  cities.  The 
Boeotians,  driven  from  Arne  in  Thessaly,  took  posses- 
sion of  their  country  in  the  sixtieth  year  after  the  fall 
of  Troy ;  in  the  eightieth,  the  Dorians,  led  on  by  the 
Heraclidse,  conquered  the  Peloponnesus.  And  we  have 
already  observed,  what  great  revolutions  were  produc- 
ed by  this  last  event.  A  new  tribe,  till  then  the 
weaker,  was  extended  and  became  the  more  powerful. 
But  still  greater  changes  were  to  come ;  the  race  of 
the  Hellenes  were  destined  to  extend  on  the  east  and 
west,  far  beyond  the  limits  of  their  ancient  country. 
'•  When  Greece,"7  continues  Thucydides,  "  after  a  long 
interval,  at  lejigth  became  composed,  and  assumed  a 
firmer  appearance,  it  sent  out  colonies ;  Athens,  to 
Ionia  in  Asia  Minor,  and  to  a  great  part  of  the  islands 

*  TLucvd.  i.  12. 


THE  PERIOD  FOLLOWING  THE  HEROIC  AGE.        101 

of  the  Archipelago ;  the  Peloponnesians,  chiefly  to  Italy 
and  Sicily  ;  all  which  settlements  were  not  made  till 
after  the  Trojan  times." 

The  views  of  the  nation  could  not  but  be  enlarged 
by  the  Trojan  war.  It  had  become  acquainted  with 
the  coasts  of  Asia,  those  lands  so  highly  favoured  by 
nature :  and  the  recollection  of  them  never  died  away. 
When  the  new  internal  storms  followed,  and  almost  all 
the  tribes  of  the  Hellenes  were  driven,  from  their 
places  of  abode,  it  is  not  remarkable  that  the  coasts 
of  Asia  should  have  attracted  the  emigrating  par- 
ties. Since  the  downfall  of  Troy,  no  new  king- 
dom had  been  established  there ;  no  nation  of  the 
country  was  strong  enough  to  prohibit  the  settle- 
ment of  the  foreigners.  Thus,  in  the  course  of 
not  more  than  a  century,*  the  western  coast  of 
Asia  Minor  was  occupied  by  a  chain  of  Grecian  cities, 
extending  from  the  Hellespont  to  the  boundary  of 
Cilicia.  ^Eolians,  conducted  by  the  descendants  of 
the  fallen  house  of  the  Atridse,  established  their 
residence  in  the  vicinity  of  the  ruins  of  Troy,  on  the 
coast  of  Mysia,  in  the  most  fruitful  region  known  to 
those  times,!  and  on  the  opposite  island  of  Lesbos  ;  on 
the  continent  they  built  twelve  cities,  and  on  Lesbos 
Mitylene,  which  now  gives  a  name  to  the  whole  is- 
land. Smyrna,  the  only  one  which  has  preserved 
a  part  of  its  splendor,  and  Cyme,  exceeded  all  the 
rest  on  the  main  land.  jEolis  was  bounded  on  the 
south  by  Ionia,  a  region  so  called  from  the  twelve 
Ionian  cities,  which  were  built  by  the  lonians,  who 
had  been  expelled  from  their  ancient  country.  They 

*In  a  period  subsequent  to  the  year  1130  before  Christ, 
t  Herod,  i.  149. 


102  CHAPTER  FIFTH. 

also  occupied  the  neighbouring  islands  Chios  and 
Samos.  If  ^Eolis  could  boast  of  superior  fertility,  the 
Ionian  sky  was  celebrated  with  the  Greeks  as  the 
mildest  and  most  delightful.*  Of  these  cities,  Miletus, 
Ephesus,  and  Phocaea  became  flourishing  commercial 
towns ;  the  mothers  of  many  daughters,  extending 
from  the  shores  of  the  Black  sea  and  lake  Mseotis,  to 
the  coasts  of  Gaul  and  Iberia.  Neither  were  the 
Dorians  content  with  their  conquest  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesus ;  troops  of  them  thronged  to  Asia ;  Cos,  and 
the  wealthy  Rhodes,  as  well  as  the  cities  Halicar- 
nassus  and  Cnidus,  were  peopled  by  them.  In  this 
manner,  as  the  series  of  cities  planted  by  the  Grecians 
ascended  the  Macedonian  and  Thracian  coast  to  By- 
zantium, the  jEgean  sea  was  encircled  with  Grecian 
colonies,  and  its  islands  were  covered  with  them. 
But  the  mother  country  seems  soon  to  have  been  filled 
again;  and  as  the  east  offered  no  more  room,  the 
emigrants  wandered  to  the  west.  At  a  somewhat 
later  period,  but  with  hardly  less  success,  the  coasts 
of  Lower  Italy,  which  soon  took  the  name  of  Magna 
Grsecia,  and  those  of  Sicily,  were  occupied  by  Dorians, 
Achaeans,  and  lonians.f  On  the  gulf  of  Tarentum, 
not  only  the  city  of  that  name,  but  Croton  and  Sybaris 
soon  rose  to  a  degree  of  population  anti  wealth,  bor- 
dering on  the  fabulous ;  whilst  the  chain  of  towns 
extended  by  way  of  Rhegium  and  Pacstum  as  far  as 
Cumse  and  Naples.  These  colonial  towns  were  still 
more  frequent  on  the  coasts  of  Sicily,  from  Messana 
and  the  unrivalled  Syracuse  to  the  proud  Agrigen- 

*Heroi!.  i.  142. 

t  Especially  between  the  years  800  and  700  before  the  Christian  era. 
Tet  single  colonies  w«re  earlier  established. 


THE  PERIOD  FOLLOWING  THE  HEROIC  AGE.       103 

turn.  And  in  the  now  desolate  Barca,  on  the  coast 
of  Lybia,  Gyrene  flourished  with  the  towns  of  which 
it  was  the  metropolis,  and  proved  that  Greeks  remain- 
ed true  to  their  origin  even  in  Africa. 

We  reserve  for  another  chapter  the  consideration 
of  the  flourishing  condition  and  various  consequences 
of  their  colonies.  Bat  whilst  the  world  of  the  Greeks 
and  their  circle  of  vision  were  thus  enlarged,  it  was 
not  possible  for  their  political  condition  to  remain 
unchanged.  Freedom  ripens  in  colonies.  Ancient 
usage  cannot  be  preserved,  cannot  altogether  be 
renewed,  as  at  home.  The  former  bonds  of  attach- 
ment to  the  soil  and  ancient  customs,  were  broken  by 
the  voyage  ;  the  spirit  felt  itself  to  be  more  free  in  the 
new  country ;  new  strength  was  required  for  the 
necessary  exertions ;  and  those  exertions  were  ani- 
mated by  success.  Where  every  man  lives  by  the 
labour  of  his  hands,  equality  arises,  even  if  it  did  not 
exist  before.  Each  day  is  fraught  with  new  experi- 
ence ;  the  necessity  of  common  defence  is  more  felt  in 
lands  where  the  new  settlers  find  ancient  inhabitants 
desirous  of  being  free  from  them.  Need  we  wonder, 
then,  if  the  authority  of  the  founders,  even  where  it 
had  originally  subsisted,  soon  gave  way  to  liberty  ? 

Similar  phenomena  are  observable  in  the  mother 
country.  The  annihilation  of  so  many  of  the  ruling 
houses  in  the  Trojan  war  and  its  immediate  conse- 
quences would  have  produced  them  even  without 
internal  storms.  How  then  could  the  ancient  order  of 
things  be  restored,  after  so  great  revolutions  and  such 
changes  in  the  residence  of  nearly  all  the  tribes.  The 
heroic  age  disappeared  ;  and  with  it  the  supremacy 
of  the  princes :  and  when  heroes  came  forward,  like 


104  CHAPTER  FIFTH. 

Aristomenes,  they  resemble  adventurers  rather  than 
the  sublime  figures  of  Homer.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  intercourse  and  trade  with  the  colonies  were  con- 
tmued  on  all  sides  ;  for,  according  to  the  Grecian  cus- 
tom, the  mother  country  and  her  colonies  were  never 
strangers  to  each  other ;  and  the  former  soon  had  a 
lesson  to  learn  of  the  latter. 

A  new  order  things  was  the  necessary  conse- 
quence. The  ancient  ruling  families  died  away  of 
themselves,  or  lost  their  power.  But  this  did  not 
take  place  in  all  or  most  of  the  Grecian  cities  at  one 
time,  but  very  gradually  ;  and  he  who  should  speak 
of  a  general  political  revolution  in  the  modern  phrase, 
would  excite  altogether  erroneous  conceptions.  As 
far  as  we  can  judge  from  the  imperfect  accounts  which 
remain  of  the  history  of  the  individual  states,  more 
than  a  century  elapsed  before  the  change  was  com- 
plete. We  cannot  fix  the  period  of  it  in  all  of  them  ; 
it  happened  in  most  of  them  between  the  years  900  and 
700  before  Christ,  in  others  in  the  two  centuries  imme- 
diately after  the  Doric  emigration.  In  several,  as  in 
Athens,  it  was  brought  about  by  degrees.  In  that 
city,  when  the  royal  dignity  was  abolished  at  the 
death  of  Codrus,*  archons,  differing  little  from  kings. 
were  appointed  from  his  family  for  life  ;  these  were 
followed  by  archons  chosen  for  ten  years  ;f  and 
these  last  continued  for  seventy  years,  till  the  yearly 
election  of  a  college  of  archons  set  the  seal  to  democ- 
racy. 

The  fruit  of  these  changes  was  the  establishment 
of  free  constitutions  for  the  cities  ;  which  constitutions 
could  prosper  only  with  the  increasing  prosperity  of 

*In  the  year  1068  before  Christ.  t  In  the  year  752  before  Christ. 


THE  PERIOD  FOLLOWING  THE  HEROIC  AGE.       105 

the  towns.  Thucydides  has  described  to  us  in  an 
admirable  manner,  how  this  happened.  "  In  those 
times,"  says  he,*  "  no  important  war,  which  could 
give  a  great  ascendency  to  individual  states,  was 
carried  on ;  the  wars  which  chanced  to  arise,  were 
only  with  the  nearest  neighbours."  Though  tran- 
quillity may  thus  have  sometimes  been  interrupted, 
the  increase  of  the  cities  could  not  be  retard- 
ed. "  But  since  colonies  were  established  beyond 
the  sea,  several  of  the  cities  began  to  apply  themselves 
to  navigation  and  commerce ;  and  the  intercourse, 
kept  up  with  them  afforded  mutual  advantages-!  The 
cities,"  continues  Thucydides,  "  became  more  powerful 
and  more  wealthy;  but  then  usurpers  arose  in  most 
of  them,  who  sought  only  to  confirm,  their  own  power, 
and  enrich  their  own  families  ;  but  performed  no  great 
exploits  ;  until  they  were  overthrown,  not  long  before 
the  Persian  wars,  by  the  Spartans  (who,  amidst  all 
those  storms,  were  never  subjected  to  tyrants)  and 
the  Athenians.":}: 

The  essential  character  of  the  new  political  form 
assumed  by  Greece,  consisted  therefore  in  the  cir- 
cumstance, that  the  free  states  which  were  formed, 
were  nothing  but  cities  with  their  districts,  and  their 
constitutions  were  consequently  only  forms  of  city 
government.  This  point  of  view  must  never  be  lost 
sight  of.  The  districts  into  which  Greece  was  divided, 
did  not  form,  as  such,  so  many  states ;  but  the  same 
often  contained  many  states,  if  it  possessed  several 
independent  cities ;  though  a  whole  district  some- 

*  Thucyd.  i.  15.  f  Thucyd.  i.  13. 

J  For  the  counterpart  to  the  narration  of  Thucydides,  we  need  only  call 
to  mind  the  history  of  the  Italian  cities,  towards  the  end  of  the  middle  age. 

14 


106  CHAPTER  FIFTH. 

times  formed  the  territory  of  but  one  city,  as  Attica 
of  Athens,  Laconia  of  Sparta,  etc.  and  in  such  a  case 
formed  of  course  but  one  state.  But  it  might  easily 
happen,  that  the  cities  of  one  district,  especially  if 
their  inhabitants  were  of  kindred  tribes,  formed  allian- 
ces for  mutual  safety  :  as  the  twelve  Achaean  cities 
had  done.  But  these  alliances  had  reference  only  to 
foreign  relations  :  and  thus  they  formed  a  confedera- 
tion of  cities,  but  not  one  state ;  for  each  individual 
city  had  its  own  internal  constitution,  and  managed 
its  own  concerns.  It  might  also  happen,  that  some 
one  of  the  cities,  on  becoming  powerful,  should  claim 
the  sovereignty  over  the  rest;  as  Thebes  over  the 
Boeotian  cities.  But  however  far  such  a  superior 
rank  might  lead ;  it  was  intended  by  the  Greeks,  not 
only  that  each  state  should  preserve  its  internal 
liberty  ;  but  that  its  submission  should  be  voluntary  ; 
although  the  claims  of  a  supreme  city  occasionally  led 
to  compulsory  measures.  When  Thebes  usurped  the 
first  rank  in  Boeotia,  Plataeae  would  never  acknowledge 
its  sovereignty.  The  consequences  of  it  are  known 
from  history. 

The  whole  political  life  of  the  nation  was  thus 
connected  with  cities  and  their  constitutions  ;  and  no 
one  can  judge  of  Grecian  history  with  accuracy,  unless 
he  comprehends  the  spirit  of  them.  The  strength  of 
such  cities  seems  to  be  very  limited  ;  but  the  history 
of  the  world  abounds  in  examples,  which  show  how 
far  beyond  expectation  they  can  rise.  They  are  ani- 
mated by  public  spirit,  resulting  from  civil  prosperity; 
and  the  force  of  that  spirit  can  be  expressed  in  no 
statistical  tables. 


HOMER.       THE  EPIC  POETS.  107 


CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

HOMER.    THE  EPIC  POETS. 

THE  heroic  age  was  past,  before  the  poets,  who 
celebrated  it,  arose.  It  produced  some  contemporary 
with  itself;  but  their  fame  was  eclipsed  by  those  who 
came  after  them,  and  were  it  not  for  Homer,  the  names 
of  Demodocus  and  Phemius  had  never  become  im- 
mortal. 

With  the  Greeks,  epic  poetry  had  an  importance, 
which  it  possessed  among  no  other  people ;  it  was 
the  source  of  their  national  education  in  poetry  and 
the  arts.  It  became  so  by  means  of  the  Homeric 
poems.  But  boundless  as  was  the  genius  of  the 
Ionian  bard,  a  concurrence  of  favourable  circumstan- 
ces was  still  needed,  to  prepare  for  his  appearance, 
and  to  make  it  possible. 

Epic  poetry  was  of  itself  a  fruit  of  the  heroic 
age  ;  just  as  the  poetry  of  chivalry  was  the  result 
of  the  age  of  chivalry.  The  picture  drawn  for  us 
by  Homer  of  the  heroic  times,  leaves  no  room  to 
doubt  of  it.  The  feasts  of  the  heroes,  like  the  ban- 
quets of  the  knights,  where  ornamented  with  song. 
But  the  more  copious  the  stream  is  to  which  it  swel- 
led, the  more  does  it  deserve  to  be  traced,  as  far  as 
it  is  possible,  to  its  origin. 

Even  before  the  heroic  age,  we  hear  of  several 
poets,  of  Orpheus,  Linus,  and  a  few  others.  But  if 
their  hymns  were  merely  invocations  and  eulogies  of 
the  gods,  as  we  must  infer  from  the  accounts  which 


108  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

are  handed  down  to  us  respecting  them,*  no  similarity 
seems  to  have  existed  between  them  and  the  subse- 
quent heroic  poetry ;  although  a  transition  not  only 
became  possible,  but  actually  took  place,  when  the 
actions  of  the  gods  were  made  the  subjects  of  hymns. f 
The  heroic  poetry,  according  to  all  that  we  know 
of  it,  preserved  the  character  of  narration  ;  whether 
those  narrations  contained  accounts  of  the  gods  or  of 
heroes  ;J  "  the  actions  of  gods  and  heroes,  who 
were  celebrated  in  song."  In  the  songs  of  Deniodo- 
cus  and  Phemius,  the  subject  is  taken  from  the  one 
and  from  the  other ;  he  celebrates  the  loves  of  Mars 
and  Venus, §  no  less  than  the  adventures  which  took 
place  before  Troy.  The  latter  class  of  subjects 
cannot  be  more  ancient  than  the  heroic  age,  even 
though  we  should  esteem  the  former  as  much  older. 
But  that  age  produced  the  class  of  bards,  who  were 
employed  in  celebrating  the  actions  of  the  heroes. 
They  formed  a  separate  class  in  society  ;  but  they 
stood  on  an  equal  footing  with  the  heroes,  and  are 
considered  as  belonging  to  them.||  The  gift  of  song 
came  to  them  from  the  gods :  it  is  the  Muse,  or  Jove 
himself,  who  inspires  them  and  teaches  them  what 
they  should  sing.H  As  this  representation  continu- 
ally recurs,  it  is  probable,  that  their  poetic  effusions 
were  often  extemporaneous.  At  least  this  seems  in 

*Our  present  Orphic  hymns  have  this  character  The  more  ancient  ones, 
if  there  were  such,  were  nothing  else.  See  Pausanias  is.  p.  770 ;  and  the 
very  ancient  hymn,  preserved  by  Stobaeus.  Stob.  Eclog.  i.  p.  40  in  Heeren's 
edition. 

t  The  proof  of  this  is  found  in  the  hymns  attributed  to  Homer. 

J  Odyss.  i.  338.  §  Odyss.  viii.  266,  fcc. 

||  Od.  viii.  483.     Demodocus  himself  is  here  called  Heros. 

U  Od.  viii.  73,  i.  348. 


HOMER.       THE  EPIC  POETS.  109 

many  cases  hardly  to  admit  of  a  doubt.  Ulysses 
proposes  to  Demodocus  the  subject  of  his  song  ;*  and 
the  bard,  like  the  modern  improvisator!,  commences 
his  strains  under  the  influence  of  the  sudden  inspira- 
tion. We  would  by  no  means  be  understood  to  assert, 
that  there  were  none  but  extemporaneous  productions. 
Certain  songs  very  naturally  became  favourites,  and 
were  kept  alive  in  the  mouths  of  the  poets ;  whilst  an 
infinite  number,  which  were  but  the  offspring  of  the 
moment,  died  away  at  their  birth.  But  an  abundance 
of  songs  was  needed  ;  a  variety  was  required,  and  the 
charm  of  novelty  even  then  enforced  its  claims. f 

For  novel  lays  attract  our  ravished  ears  ; 
But  old  the  mind  with  inattention  hears. 

The  voice  was  always  accompanied  by  some  instru- 
ment. The  bard  was  provided  with  a  harp,  on  which 
he  played  a  prelude,:}:  to  elevate  and  inspire  his  mind, 
and  with  which  he  accompanied  the  song  when  begun. 
His  voice  probably  preserved  a  medium  between 
singing  and  recitation  ;  the  words,  and  not  the  melody, 
were  regarded  by  the  listeners  ;  hence  it  was  necessa- 
ry for  him  to  remain  intelligible  to  all.  In  countries 
where  nothing  similar  is  found,  it  is  difficult  to  repre- 
sent such  scenes  to  the  mind  ;  but  whoever  has  had  an 
opportunity  of  listening  to  the  improvisator!  of  Italy, 
can  easily  form  an  idea  of  Demodocus  and  Phemius. 
However  imperfect  our  ideas  of  the  earliest  heroic 
songs  may  remain  after  all  which  the  poet  has  told 
us,  the  following  positions  may  be  inferred  from  it. 
First :  The  singers  were  at  the  same  time  poets  ;  they 
sang  their  own  works  ;  there  is  no  trace  of  their  having 

*Od.  viii.  492,  etc.  a  leading  passage.  t  Od.  i.  352.  ' 

/>  oil,  viii.  266,  &c. 


110  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

sung  those  of  others.  Farther :  Their  songs  were 
poured  forth  from  the  inspiration  of  the  moment ;  or 
only  reposed  in  their  memory.  In  the  former  case,  they 
were,  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word,  improvisatori ;  and, 
in  the  latter,  they  must  necessarily  have  remained  in 
some  measure  improvisatori,  for  they  lived  in  an  age, 
which,  even  if  it  possessed  the  alphabet,  seems  never 
to  have  thought  of  committing  poems  to  writing.  The 
epic  poetry  of  the  Greeks  did  not  continue  to  be  mere 
extemporaneous  effusions  ;  but  it  seems  to  us  very 
probable,  that  such  was  its  origin.  Lastly  :  Although 
the  song  was  sometimes  accompanied  by  a  dance 
illustrative  of  its  subject,  imitative  gestures  are  never 
attributed  to  the  bard  himself.  There  are  dancers 
for  that.  Epic  poetry  and  the  ballet  can  thus  be 
united  ;  but  the  union  was  not  essential,  and  probably 
took  place  only  in  the  histories  concerning  the  gods.* 
This  union  was  very  natural.  Under  the  southern 
skies  of  Europe,  no  proper  melody  is  required  for  the 
imitative  dance,  it  is  only  necessary  that  the  time 
should  be  distinctly  marked.  When  the  bard  did  this 
with  his  lyre,  the  dancers,  as  well  as  himself,  had  all 
that  they  required. 

This  heroic  poetry,  which  was  so  closely  interwov- 
en with  social  life,  that  it  could  be  spared  at  no  cheer- 
ing banquet,  was  common  no  doubt  throughout  all 
Hellas.  We  hear  its  strains  in,  the  island  of  the 
Phaeacians,  no  less  than  in  the  dwellings  "of  Ulysses 
and  Manelaus.  The  poet  does  not  bring  before  us 
strict  contests  in  song;  but  we  may  learn,  that  the 
spirit  of  emulation  was  strong,  and  that  some  believed 
themselves  already  perfect  in  their  art,  from  the  story 

*  As  in  tbe  story  of  the  amour  of  Mars  and  Venus.    Od.  viii. 


HOMER.       THE  EPIC  POETS.  Ill 

of  the  Thracian  Thamyris,  who  wished  to  contend  with 
the  muses,  and  was  punished  for  his  daring  hy  the 
loss  of  the  light  of  his  eyes,  and  the  art  of  song.* 

Epic  poetry  emigrated  with  the  colonies  to  the 
shores  of  Asia.  When  we  remember,  that  those 
settlements  were  made  during  the  heroic  age,  and  that 
in  part  the  sons  and  posterity  of  the  princes,  in  whose 
halls  at  Argos  and  Mycenae  its  echoes  had  formerly 
been  heard,  were  the  leaders  of  those  expeditions^ 
this  will  hardly  seem  doubtful  and  still  less  im- 
probable. 

But  that  epic  poetry  should  have  first  displayed 
its  full  glory  in  those  regions,  and  should  have  raised 
itself  to  the  sublimity  and  extent  which  it  obtained  ; 
was  more  than  could  have  been  expected. 

And  yet  it  was  so.  Homer  appeared.  The  his- 
tory of  the  poet  and  his  works  is  lost  in  doubtful 
obscurity  ;  as  is  the  history  of  many  of  the  first  minds 
who  have  done  honour  to  humanity,  because  they 
arose  amidst  darkness.  The  majestic  stream  of  his 
song,  blessing  and  fertilizing,  flows  like  the  Nile 
through  many  lands  and  nations  ;  like  the  sources  of 
the  Nile,  its  fountains  will  remain  concealed. 

It  cannot  be  the  object  of  these  essays,  to  enter 
anew  into  these  investigations,  which  probably  have 
already  been  carried  as  far  as  the  present  state  of 
criticism  and  learning  will  admit.J  The  modern 
inquirers  can  hardly  be  reproached  with  credulity, 
for  nothing,  which  could  be  doubted,  not  even  the 
existence  of  Homer  himself,  has  been  left  unquestioned. 

*I1.  Cat.  Nav.  102.  f  As  Orestes  and  his  descendants. 

Jit  is  hardly  "necessary  to  refer  to  the   Excursus  of  Heyne,  on  the  last 
book  of  the  Iliad,  and  the  Prolegomena  of  Wolf. 


12  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

When  once  the  rotten  fabric  of  ancient  belief  was 
examined,  no  one  of  the  pillars,  on  which  it  rested, 
could  escape  inspection.  The  general  result  was, 
that  the  whole  building  rested  far  more  on  the  foun- 
dation of  tradition,  than  of  credible  history  ;  but  how 
far  this  foundation  is  secure,  is  a  question,  respecting 
which,  the  voices  will  hardly  be  able  to  unite. 

It  seems  of  chief  importance  to  expect  no  more 
than  the  nature  of  things  makes  possible.  If  the 
period  of  tradition  in  history  is  the  region  of  twilight, 
we  should  not  expect  in  it  perfect  light.  The  crea- 
tions of  genius  remain  always  half  miracles,  because 
they  are,  for  the  most  part,  created  far  from  the 
reach  of  observation.  If  we  were  in  possession  of  all 
the  historic  testimonies,  we  never  could  wholly  explain 
the  origin  of  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey;  for  their  origin, 
in  all  essential  points,  must  have  remained  the  secret 
of  the  poet.  But  we  can,  to  a  certain  extent,  explain 
howjimder  the  circu  instances  of  those  times,  an  epic  poet 
could  arise  ;  how  he  could  elevate  his  mind  ;  and  how 
he  could  become  of  such  importance  to  his  nation  and 
to  posterity.  This  is  all  to  which  our  inquiry  should 
be  directed. 

The  age  of  Homer,  according  to  all  probability, 
was  that  in  which  the  Ionian  colonies  flourished  in 
the  vigour  of  youth.*  Their  subsequent  condition 
shows  that  this  must  have  been  so  ;  although  history 
has  not  preserved  for  us  any  particular  account  on 
the  subject  It  is  easy  to  conceive,  that  in  a  country 

*  The  age  of  Homer  is  usually  set  about  a  century  after  the  foundation  of 
those  colonies,  about  the  year  950  before  Christ.  If  it  be  true,  that  Lycur- 
gus,  whose  laws  were  given  about  the  year  880,  introduced  his  poems  into 
Sparta,  he  cannot  be  much  younger.  We  must  leave  to  others  the  prosecu- 
tion of  these  inquiries. 


HOMER.       THE  EPIC  POETS.  113 

highly  favoured  by  nature  ;  external  circumstances 
could  afford  the  poet  many  facilities,  by  means  of  the 
forms  of  social  life,  of  which  song  was  the  companion. 
But  the  circumstances  of  the  times  afforded  many 
greater  advantages  to  poetic  genius. 

The  glimmerings  of  tradition  were  not  yet  depart- 
ed. The  expedition  against  Troy,  and  the  efforts  of 
the  earlier  poets,  had  rather  contributed  so  to  mature 
the  traditions,  that  they  offered  the  noblest  subjects  for 
national  poems.  Before  that  time,  the  heroes  of  the 
several  tribes  had  been  of  importance  to  none  but  their 
tribe  ;  but  those  who  were  distinguished  in  the  com- 
mon undertaking  against  Troy,  became  heroes  of  the 
nation.  Their  actions  and  their  sufferings  awakened 
a  general  interest.  Add  to  this,  that  these  actions 
and  adventures  had  already  been  celebrated  by  many 
of  the  early  bards  ;  and  that  they  had  even  then 
imparted  to  the  whole  of  history  the  poetic  character, 
which  distinguished  it.  Time  is  always  needed  to 
mature  tradition  for  the  epic  poet.  The  songs  of  a 
Phemius  and  aDemodocus,  though  the  subjects  of  them 
were  taken  from  that  war,  were  but  the  first  essays, 
which  died  away,  as  the  ancient  songs  have  done,  in 
which  the  exploits  of  the  crusaders  were  commemorat- 
ed. It  was  not  till  three  hundred  years  after  the 
loss  of  the  Holy  Land,  that  the  poet  appeared  who 
was  to  celebrate  the  glory  of  Godfrey,  in  a  manner 
worthy  of  the  hero  ;  more  time  had  perhaps  passed 
after  Achilles  and  Hector  fell  in  battle,  before  the 
Grecian  poet  secured  to  them  their  immortality. 

The  language  no  less  than  the  subject  had  been 
improved  in  this  age.  Although  neither  all  its  words 
nor  its  phrases  were  limited  in  their  use  by  strict 
15 


114  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

grammatical  rules,  it  was  by  no  means  awkward  or 
rough.  It  had  for  centuries  been  improved  by  the 
poets,  and  had  now  become  a  poetic  language.  It  al- 
most seemed  more  easy  to  make  use  of  it  in  verse  than 
in  prose ;  and  the  forms  of  the  hexameter,  of  which 
alone  the  epic  poet  made  use,  are  extrenrely  sim- 
ple.* The  language  voluntarily  submitted  to  the 
poet,  and  there  never  was  a  tongue,  in  which  inspira- 
tion could  have  poured  itself  forth  with  more  readi- 
ness and  ease. 

Under  such  circumstances  it  is  intelligible,  that 
when  a  sublime  poetic  genius  arose  among  a  people 
so  fond  of  poetry  and  song  as  the  lonians  always  were, 
the  age  was  favourable  to  him  ;  although  the  elevated 
creations  of  his  mind  must  continue  to  appear  won- 
derful. There  are  two  things,  which  in  modern  times 
appear  most  remarkable  and  difficult  of  explanation ; 
how  a  poet  could  have  first  conceived  the  idea  of  so 
extensive  a  whole,  as  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey  ;  and 
how  he  could  have  composed  them,  how  he  could  have 
executed  works  of  such  extent,  and  how  those  works 
could  have  been  preserved,  without  the  aid  of 
writing. 

With  regard  to  the  first  point,  criticism  has  en- 
deavoured to  show,  and  has  succeeded  in  showing, 
that  these  poems,  especially  the  Iliad,  possess  by  no 
means  that  perfect  unity,  which  they  were  formerly 
believed  to  possess ;  that  rather  many  whole  pieces 
have  been  interpolated  or  annexed  to  them  ;  and  there 
hardly  exists  at  present  an  inquiring  scholar^  who  can 

*  How  much  easier  it  must  have  been  to  make  extemporaneous  verses 
in  that  measure,  than  in  the  oltara  rima  of  the  Italians.  And  yet  the  Italian 
wears  its  shackles  with  the  greatest  ease. 


HOMER.       THE  EPIC  POETS.  115 

persuade  himself,  that  we  possess  them  both  in  the 
same  state,  in  which  they  came  from  the  hands  of  the 
poet.  But  notwithstanding  the  more  or  less  frequent 
interpolations,  each  has  but  one  primary  action; 
which,  although  it  is  interrupted  by  frequent  episodes, 
could  hardly  have  been  introduced  by  any  but  the 
original  author;  and  which  does  not  permit  us  to 
consider  either  of  these  poems  as  a  mere  collection 
of  scattered  rhapsodies.  It  is  certainly  a  gigantic 
step,  to  raise  epic  poetry  to  the  unity  of  the  chief 
action ;  but  the  idea  springs  from  the  very  nature  of 
a  narration  ;  and  therefore  it  did  not  stand  in  need  of 
a  theory,  which  was  foreign  to  the  age  ;  genius  was 
able  of  itself  to  take  this  step.*  Herodotus  did 
something  similar  in  the  department  of  history. 

We  find  it  still  more  difficult  to  comprehend  how 
works  of  this  extent  could  have  been  planned  and 
executed  without  the  aid  of  an  alphabet,  and  preserv- 
ed, probably  for  a  long  time,  till  they  were  finally 
saved  from  perishing  by  being  committed  to  writing. 
We  will  not  here  repeat  at  large,  what  has  already 
been  said  by  others  ;  that  a  class  of  singers,  devoted 

*  A  more  plausible  objection  is  this  :  that  even  if  it  be  conceded,  that  it 
was  possible  to  invent  and  execute  such  large  poems,  they  would  have  an- 
swered no  end,  as  they  were  too  long  to  admit  of  being  recited  at  once. 
But  a  reply  may  be  made  to  this.  The  Iliad  and  Odyssy  could  not  be  recit- 
ed at  a  banquet.  But  there  were  public  festivals  and  assemblies  which  last- 
ed many  days,  and  Herodotus  read  aloud  the  nine  books  of  his  history,  in  a 
succession  of  days  at  Olympia.  The  Iliad  and  Odyssey,  which,  when  free 
from  interpolations,  were  perhaps  much  shorter  than  they  now  are,  may 
have  been  recited  in  the  course  of  several  days.  And  if  we  may  be  permit- 
ted to  indulge  in  conjecture,  why  may  they  not  have  been  designed  for  such 
occasions  ?  That  the  Greeks  were  accustomed  to  intellectual  enjoyments, 
interrupted  and  afterwards  continued,  appears  from  the  Tetralogies  of  the 
Dramatists  in  a  later  age.  This  is  characteristic  of  a  nation,  which  even  in 
its  pleasures  desired  something  more  than  pastime,  and  always  aimed  at  gran- 
deur and  beauty. 


116  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

exclusively  to  this  business,  could  easily  preserve  in 
memory  much  more ;  that  the  poems  were  recited  in 
parts,  and  therefore  needed  to  be  remembered  only  in 
parts ;  and  that  even  in  a  later  age,  when  the  Ho- 
meric poems  had  already  been  entrusted  to  writing, 
the  rhapsodists  still  knew  them  so  perfectly  (as  we 
must  infer  from  the  Ion  of  Plato),  that  they  could 
readily  recite  any  passage  which  was  desired.  But  let 
us  be  permitted  to  call  to  mind  a  fact,  which  has  come 
to  light  since  the  modern  inquiries  respecting  Homer, 
and  which  proves,  that  poems  of  even  greater  extent 
than  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey  can  live  in  the  memory 
and  mouths  of  a  nation.  The  Dschangariade  of  the  Cal- 
mucks  is  said  to  surpass  the  poems  of  Homer  in  length, 
as  much  as  it  stands  beneath  them  in  merit  ;*  and 
yet  it  exists  only  in  the  memory  of  a  people,  which 
is  not  unacquainted  with  writing.  But  the  songs  of  a 
nation  are  probably  the  last  things  which  are  commit- 
ted to  writing,  for  the  very  reason  that  they  are  re- 
membered. 

But  whatever  opinions  may  be  entertained  on  the 
origin  of  these  poems,  and  whether  we  ascribe  them 
to  one  author  or  to  several,  it  will  hardly  be  doubted 
that  they  all  belong,  on  the  whole,  to  one  age,  which 
we  call  in  a  larger  sense,  the  age  of  Homer.  The 

*  See  on  this  subject  B.  Bergmann,  Nomadische  Streifereyen  unter  den 
Kalmycken.  B.  2,  S.  213,  &c.  This  Calmuck  Homer  flourished  in  (he  last 
century.  He  is  said  to  have  sung  three  hundred  and  sixty  cantos  ;  but  this 
number  may  be  exaggerated.  Of  the  singers,  called  Dschangartschi,  it  is 
not  easy  to  find  one,  who  knows  more  than  twenty  by  heart.  In  the  fourth 
part  of  his  work,  Mr.  Bergmann  has  given  us  a  translation  of  one  of  them, 
which  is  about  equal  in  length  to  a  rhapsody  of  Homer.  It  thus  appears  to 
be  no  uncommon  thing  for  the  Calmuck  singers  to  retain  in  memory  a  poem 
quite  as  long  as  the  Iliad  or  Odyssey. 


HOMER.       THE  EPIC  POETS.  117 

important  fact  is,  that  we  possess  them.  Whatever 
hypothesis  we  may  adopt  on  their  origin  and  forma- 
tion, their  influence  on  the  Grecian  nation  and  on 
posterity  remains  the  same.  And  these  are  the 
topics  which  claim  our  regard. 

It  was  Homer  who  formed  the  character  of  the 
Greek  nation.  No  poet  has  ever,  as  a  poet,  exercised 
a  similar  influence  over  his  countrymen.  Prophets, 
lawgivers,  and  sages  have  formed  the  character  of 
other  nations  ;  it  was  reserved  to  a  poet  to  form  that 
of  the  Greeks.  This  is  a  trait  in  their  character, 
which  could  not  be  wholly  erased  even  in  the  period 
of  their  degeneracy.  When  lawgivers  and  sages 
appeared  in  Greece,  the  work  of  the  poet  had  already 
been  accomplished ;  and  they  paid  homage  to  his 
superior  genius.  He  held  up  before  his  nation  the 
mirror,  in  which  they  were  to  behold  the  world  of 
gods  and  heroes  no  less  than  of  feeble  mortals,  and  to 
behold  them  reflected  with  purity  and  truth.  His 
poems  are  founded  on  the  first  feelings  of  human 
nature  ;  on  the  love  of  children,  spouse,  and  country  ; 
on  that  passion  which  outweighs  all  others,  the  love  of 
glory.  His  songs  were  poured  forth  from  a  breast, 
which  sympathized  with  all  the  feelings  of  man  ;  and 
therefore  they  enter  and  will  continue  to  enter  every 
breast,  which  cherishes  the  same  sympathies.  If 
it  is  granted  to  his  immortal  spirit,  from  another 
heaven  than  any  of  which  he  dreamed  on  earth, 
to  look  down  on  his  race,  to  see  the  nations  from 
the  fields  of  Asia,  to  the  forests  of  Hercynia, 
performing  pilgrimages  to  the  fountain,  which  his 
magic  wand  caused  to  flow  ;  if  it  is  permitted  to  him 
to  overlook  the  whole  harvest  of  grand,  of  elevat- 


118  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

ed,  of  glorious  productions,  which  have  been  called 
into  being  by  means  of  his  songs  ;  wherever  his  immor- 
tal spirit  may  reside,  nothing  more  can  be  required 
to  complete  his  happiness. 

Wherever  writing  is  known,  where  it  is  used  for 
the  purpose  of  preserving  poems,  and  thus  a  poetic 
literature  is  formed,  the  muse  loses  her  youthful  fresh- 
ness. Works  of  the  greatest  merit  may  still  be  pro- 
duced ;  but  poetry  exerts  its  full  influence  only  so 
long  as  it  is  considered  inseparable  from  song  and  reci- 
tation. The  H  omeric  poems  were  therefore  so  far  from 
having  produced  a  less  considerable  effect,  because 
they  for  a  long  time  were  not  written  down,  that  the 
source  of  their  strength  lay  in  this  very  circumstance. 
They  entered  the  memory  and  the  soul  of  the  nation. 
If  we  were  better  acquainted  with  the  forms  of  social 
life,  which  were  prevalent  in  the  cities  of  Ionia,  and 
with  which  poetry  necessarily  stood  in  the  closest 
union,  we  should  be  able  to  judge  more  definitely  of 
its  effects.  The  nature  of  things^seems  to  show,  that 
there,  as  in  the  mother  country,  they  must  have  been 
sung  at  festivals  and  assemblies,  whether  public  or 
private.  This  custom  was  so  deeply  fixed  in  the 
nation,  that  it  continued  long  after  these  poems  were 
committed  to  writing,  and  were  thus  accessible  to  a 
reader,  and  in  fact,  that  it  was  declamation,  which 
continued  to  give  them  their  full  effect.  We  need  but 
call  to  mind  the  remark,  which  Ion,  the  rhapsodist, 
makes  to  Socrates  ;*  '*  I  see  the  hearers  now  weep 
and  now  rise  in  passion,  and  appear  as  if  deprived  of 
sensation."  If  the  rhapsodists  in  an  age,  when  all 
that  was  divine  in  their  art,  had  passed  away,  and 

*Plat.  Op.  iv.  p.  190. 


HOMER.       THE  EPIC  POETS.         .  IIS 

when  they  sung  only  for  money,  could  produce  such 
effects,  how  great  must  have  been  their  influence  in 
the  period  of  their  greatest  glory. 

Since  the  time  of  Homer,  and  chiefly  through  him, 
great  changes  in  the  relations  of  the  class  of  bards 
necessarily  took  place  ;  and  the  traces  of  such  changes 
are  still  distinct.  Originally  they  sang  only  their  own 
compositions,  but  now  it  became  the  custom  to  sing 
those  of  others,  which  they  had  committed  to  memory. 
In  that  part  of  Asia  which  was  inhabited  by  Greeks, 
and  especially  at  Chios,  where  Homer  is  said  to  have 
lived,*  a  particular  school  of  bards  was  formed  which, 
even  among  the  ancients,  were  known  by  the  name  of 
the  HomeridsB.  Whether  these  consisted  originally 
of  the  family  relations  of  the  poet,  is  a  question  of  no 
interest ;  it  became  the  name  of  those  rhapsodists, 
who  sang  the  poems  of  Homer,  or  those  attributed  to 
him.  They  are  therefore  distinguished  from  the 
earlier  rhapsodists  by  this,  that  they  sang  not  their 
own  works,  but  those  of  others ;  and  this  appears 
to  have  been  the  first  change,  which  was  effected, 
though  without  design,  by  Homer.  But  we  may  find 
in  the  gradual  progress  of  the  cities,  and  the  modes 
of  living  in  them,  a  chief  cause  of  a  change  in  the 
rhapsodists,  which  could  not  be  very  advantageous 
for  them.  In  these  cities,  there  may  have  been  houses 

*  According  to  the  well-known  passage  in  the  hymn  to  Apollo,  cited  by 
Thucydides  iii.  104.  "  A  blind  man  ;  he  dwells  on  the  rocky  Chios  ;  and 
his  songs  are  the  first  among  men."  Even  if  this  hymn  be  not  by  Homer 
(the  age  of  Thucydides  esteemed  it  certainly  his),  it  must  have  been  com- 
posed in  an  age,  which  approached  that  of  Homer.  That  Homer  was  an  in- 
habitant of  Chios,  is  an  account,  for  the  truth  of  which  we  have  no  guaranty 
but  tradition.  But  that  tradition  is  a  very  ancient  one,  and  the  account  con- 
tains nothing  which  is  in  itself  improbable,  or  which  should  induce  us  to 
doubt  its  accuracy. 


120  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

of  the  opulent,  and  public  halls,*  in  which  they  could 
recite ;  but  they  found  no  longer  the  dwellings  of 
heroes  and  kings.  Little  confidence  as  we  may  place 
in  the  life  of  Homer  attributed  to  Herodotus,  and 
several  other  writings  ;  it  is  still  remarkable,  that  all 
unite  in  describing  the  fortunes  of  the  poet  during 
his  lifetime,  as  by  no  means  splendid.  But  his  songs 
continued  to  live,  and,  probably  in  the  very  first  cen- 
tury after  the  poet,  were  carried  by  Lycurgus  into 
the  Peloponnesus  ;  and  from  the  same  school,  other 
epic  poets  also  started  up,  whose  works  have  been 
swallowed  by  the  stream  of  time.f  A  happy  accident 
has  preserved  for  us  the  general  contents  of  a  few  of 
them  ;J  but,  though  these  accounts  are  meagre,  we 
may  still  infer  from  them,  that  even  among  the 
ancients,  they  were  chiefly  of  interest  to  the  professed 
student  of  literature,  and  that  they  never  gained  any 

*  The  >.«»%*/.  We  are  almost  involuntarily  reminded  of  similar  appearances, 
which  marked  the  decline  of  the  poetry  of  chivalry. 

t  The  Cyclic  poets,  as  they  are  called,  who  treated  subjects  of  mytholog- 
ical tradition,  or  the  cyclus  of  traditions  respecting  the  Trojan  expedition. 
See  on  this  subject,  Excurs.  i.  ad  /Eneid.  L.  ii.  ed.  Heynii. 

t  In  the  selections  of  Proclus,  in  Bibl.  d.  alten  Litt.  und  Kunst.  St.  i.  Ine- 
dita  p.  1.  etc.  These  are  1.  the  Cyprian  poem,  probably  by  Stasinus  of 
Cyprus.  It  contained,  in  eleven  books,  the  earlier  events  of  the  Trojan  war 
before  the  action  of  the  Iliad.  2.  The  JEthiopis  of  Arctinus  the  Milesian; 
containing,  in  five  books,  the  expedition  and  death  of  Memnon.  3.  The 
small  Iliad  of  Lesches  of  Mitylene  ;  embracing,  in  four  books,  the  contention 
of  Ajax  and  Ulysses,  till  the  preparation  of  theTrojan  horse.  4.  The  destruction 
of  Troy  ('Lu'«v  ri^eii)  of  Arctinus, in  two  books.  5.  The  return  of  the  heroes 
(»»*T«),  of  Augias,  infive  books.  6.  The  Telegoniad,or  fates  of  Ulysses  afterhis 
return,  by  Eugammon,  in  two  books.  The  contents  of  these  poems,  as  here 
given,  show,  that  no  one  of  them  can  be  compared,  in  point  of  plan,  with 
the  epopees-of  Homer.  But  these  poems  also  must  for  a  long  time  have 
have  been  preserved  by  song  alone ;  for  their  authors,  although  some 
what  youuger  than  Homer,  still  lived  in  times,  when,  according  to  all  that 
we  know,  letters  were  but  little  used,  or  perhaps  entirely  unknown. 


HOMER.       THE  EPIC  POETS.  121 

claim  to  be  called  national  poems.  But  the  works  of 
these,  and  so  many  others,  of  whom  we  know  only  the 
names,  show  how  generally  epic  poetry  was  extended 
among  the  nation.  After  the  epic  language  had  once 
been  perfected  by  Homer,  it  remained  peculiar  to 
this  kind  of  poetry ;  and  when  we  read  the  works 
of  much  later  poets,  of  Quintus,  or  of  Nonnus, 
we  might  believe  ourselves  employed  on  authors 
many  centuries  older  than  they,  had  we  not  other 
evidence  beside  their  language  to  fix  the  period 
in  which  they  lived.  That  the  dialect  of  Homer 
remained  the  principal  one  for  this  class  of  poetry, 
had  an  important  influence  on  Grecian  literature. 
Amidst  all  the  changes  and  improvements  in  lan- 
guage, it  prevented  the  ancient  from  becoming  anti- 
quated, and  secured  it  a  place  among  the  later  modes 
of  expression.  This  was  a  gain  for  the  language  and 
for  the  nation.  With  the  dialect  of  Homer,  his  spirit 
continued  in  some  measure  to  live  among  the  epic 
poets.  Language  cannot  of  itself  make  a  poet ;  but 
yet  how  much  depends  on  language.  If  in  those 
later  poets  we  occasionally  hear  echoes  of  Homer,  is  it 
not  sometimes  his  spirit  which  addresses  us? 

But  his  influence  on  the  spirit  of  his  countrymen 
was  much  more  important,  than  his  influence  on  their 
language.  He  had  delineated  the  world  of  heroes 
in  colours  which  can  never  fade.  He  had  made  it 
present  to  posterity  ;  and  thus  the  artist  and  the 
tragic  poet  found  a  sphere  opened  for  the  employment 
of  their  powers  of  representation.  And  the  scenes 
from  which  they  drew  their  subjects,  could  not  have 
remained  foreign  to  their  countrymen.  We  do  but 
touch  on  this  subject,  in  order  to  say  something  on 
16 


122  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

the  point,  which  lies  particularly  within  the  circle  of 
our  inquiries  ;  the  influence  which  Homer  and  the 
epic  poets  exercised  on  the  political  character  of  their 
countrymen. 

When  we  compare  the  scanty  fragments  which 
are  still  extant,  respecting  the  circulation  and  pres- 
ervation of  the  poems  of  Homer,  it  is  remarkable 
that  in  Hellas  itself,  the  lawgivers  and  rulers 
were  the  most  active  in  making  them  known  and  in 
saving  them  from  perishing.  Lycurgus,  we  are  told, 
was  the  first  who  introduced  them  into  the  Pelopon- 
nesus by  means  of  the  rhapsodists ;  Solon  esteemed 
the  subject  so  important,  that  in  his  code  of  laws,  he 
formed  distinct  regulations,  in  conformity  to  which  it 
seems  probable  that  the  several  rhapsodies  were  recit- 
ed, not  as  before  without  method,  but  in  their  natural 
order  by  several  rhapsodists,  who  relieved  each  other 
at  intervals.  All  this  prepared  for  the  undertaking 
of  Pisistratus ;  who,  according  to  the  accounts  of  the 
ancients,  not  only  arranged  the  poems  of  Homer,  but 
gained  a  claim  to  the  eternal  gratitude  of  posterity, 
by  committing  them  to  writing.* 

This  care  in  those  illustrious  men  did  not  result 
from  a  mere  admiration  of  poetry.  That  it  was  con- 
nected with  their  political  views,  if  it  needs  such  con- 
firmation, appears  from  the  circumstance,  that  Solon 
introduces  it  into  his  laws.  Were  we  to  form  a 
judgment  on  this  subject  from  the  narrow  views  of 
our  own  times,  it  would  seem  strange,  that  they  who 
founded  or  confirmed  the  government  of  a  number, 
even  a  democracy,  should  have  laboured  to  extend  the 

*  The  passages  in  proof  of  this  are  collected  and  duly  weighed  in  the 
Prolegomena  of  Wolf,  p.  139,  &c. 


HOMER.       THE  EPIC  POETS.  123 

productions  of  a  bard,  who  was  opposed  to  their  prin- 
ciples, and  declares  his  political  creed  without  dis- 
guise ;*  "  no  good  comes  of  the  government  of  the 
many;  let  one  be  ruler,  and  one  be  king;"  and  in 
whose  works,  as  we  have  already  remarked,  repub- 
licanism finds  no  support.  But  their  views  were  not 
so  limited.  Their  object  was  not  to  confirm,  by 
means  of  the  poet,  their  own  institutions  and  their 
own  laws.  They  desired  to  animate  their  nation  with 
a  love  for  excellence  and  sublimity.  Poetry  and  song, 
indissolubly  united,  seemed  to  them  the  fittest  means 
of  gaining  that  end.  These  had  the  greatest  influ- 
ence on  the  intellectual  culture  of  the  people.  And  if 
that  culture  lay  within  the  sphere  of  the  Grecian 
lawgivers  (and  it  always  did,  though  in  different 
degrees),  of  what  importance  in  their  eyes  must  that 
poet  have  been,  whose  poems,  above  all  others,  were 
recited  by  the  class  of  rhapsodists,  that  lent  a  glory  to 
the  national  festivals  and  assemblies  ?  Solon,  himself 
one  of  the  first  of  moral  poets,  could  not  but  per- 
ceive, how  much  experience  and  knowledge  of  the 
world  are  contained  in  those  books,  with  which  youth 
is  begun,  and  to  which  age  returns.  No  fear  was 
entertained,  lest  the  narrations  respecting  the  gods 
should  be  injurious  to  morals ;  although  that  fear 
afterwards  induced  Plato  to  banish  them  from  his 
republic ;  the  philosopher,  who  but  for  Homer,  never 
could  have  become  Plato.  For,  as  we  have  already 
remarked,  the  gods  were  not  held  up  as  models  for 
imitation.  But  whilst  the  people  was  enriching  itself 
with  that  infinite  treasure  of  practical  wisdom,  it  con- 
tinued at  the  same  time  to  live  in  a  world  of  heroes, 

*  n.  ii.  204. 


124  CHAPTER  SIXTH. 

and  to  preserve  a  taste  for  objects  of  beauty.  It  is 
impossible  to  estimate  the  consequences  which  resulted 
from  this,  the  gain  of  the  nation  as  a  nation,  by  the 
encouragement  of  its  warlike  spirit,  by  the  preserva- 
tion of  its  love  of  liberty  and  independence.  In  one 
respect,  those  lawgivers  were  unquestionably  in  the 
right;  a  nation,  of  which  the  culture  rested  on  the 
Iliad  and  Odyssey,  could  not  easily  be  reduced  to  a 
nation  of  slaves. 


PRESERVATION  OP  THE  NATIONAL  CHARACTER.    125 


CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 

MEANS  OF  PRESERVING  THE  NATIONAL  CHARACTER. 

THE  Greeks,  though  divided  at  home,  and  extend- 
ed widely  in  foreign  countries,  always  considered 
themselves  as  forming  but  one  nation.  The  character 
of  the  Hellenes  was  no  where  obliterated ;  the  citizen 
of  Massilia  and  Byzantium,  retained  it  no  less  than 
the  Spartan  and  Athenian.  The  name  barbarian, 
although  it  was  applied  to  all  who  were  not  Greeks, 
conveyed  a  secondary  idea,  which  was  closely  inter- 
woven with  the  Grecian  character ;  that  they  esteem- 
ed themselves  more  cultivated  than  the  rest  of  the 
world.  It  was  not  that  gross  kinjl  of  national  pride, 
which  despises  all  foreigners  because  they  are  foreign- 
ers ;  even  where  it  was  in  itself  unjust,  its  origin  was 
a  just  one. 

But  this  higher  culture  could  never  have  remained 
a  bond  of  national  union,  the  different  tribes  of  the 
Hellenes  possessed  it  in  such  different  degrees.  Ex- 
ternal marks  were  therefore  needed.  These  were 
afforded  by  two  things;  by  language,  and  certain 
institutions  sanctioned  by  religion. 

Various  and  different  as  were  the  dialects  of 
the  Hellenes,* — and  these  differences  existed  not 
only  among  the  various  tribes,  but  even  among 
the  several  neighbouring  cities, — they  yet  acknowl- 
edged in  their  language,  that  they  formed  but  one 

*  See  what  Herodotus  says  of  the  dialects  of  the  Grecian  cities  in  Asia  ; 
}.  142. 


126  CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 

nation,  were  but  branches  of  the  same  family.  Those 
who  were  not  Greeks,  were  described  even  by  Ho- 
mer,* as  "  men  of  other  tongues ;"  and  yet  Homer 
had  no  general  name  for  the  nation.  But  though  the 
bond  of  a  common  language  may  be  a  natural  and  an 
indissoluble  one,  something  more  is  required  to  make 
it  serve  as  the  bond  of  national  union.  The  language 
must  be  not  merely  the  instrument  of  communicating 
thoughts  ;  for  it  is  that  to  every  savage  ;  something 
must  exist  in  it,  which  may  be  regarded  as  the  common 
property  of  the  nation,  because  it  is  precious  and  dear 
to  them ;  the  works  of  poets,  and  next  to  them,  of  prose 
writers,  which  are  admired,  listened  to,  and  read  by 
all.  It  is  such  productions  which  make  a  language  pe- 
culiarly valuable  to  a  nation.  The  national  spirit,  and 
manner  of  thinking  and  feeling,  are  expressed  in  them  ; 
the  nation  beholds  in  them  its  own  portrait ;  and  sees 
the  continuance  of  its  spirit  among  future  generations 
secured.  They  form  not  only  its  common  property, 
in  which  each  tribe,  according  to  the  strict  meaning 
of  the  word,  has  its  undisputed  share  ;  they  form  its 
most  sublime,  its  noblest,  its  least  perishable  property. 
In  what  a  light,  therefore,  do  Homer,  and  those  who 
trod  in  his  footsteps  appear,  when  they  are  considered 
from  this  point  of  view.  Their  poems,  listened  to 
and  admired  by  all  who  used  the  Greek  language, 
reminded  the  inhabitants  of  Hellas,  of  Ionia,  and  of 
Sicily,  in  the  liveliest  manner,  that  they  were  brothers. 
When  we  consider  the  long  series  of  ages,  during 
which  the  poems  of  Homer  and  the  Homeridse  were 
the  only  common  possession  of  the  Hellenes,  it  may 
even  be  made  a  question,  whether  without  them  they 

H.  ii.  867, 


PRESERVATION  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CHARACTER.    127 

would  have  remained  a  nation.  National  poetry  was 
therefore  the  bond,  which  held  them  together ;  but 
this  bond  was  strengthened  by  another ;  by  that  of 
religion. 

Unlike  the  religions  of  the  East,  the  religion  of  the 
Hellenes  was  supported  by  no  sacred  books,  was  con- 
nected with  no  peculiar  doctrines  ;  it  could  not,  there- 
fore, serve  like  the  former,  to  unite  a  nation  by  means 
of  a  common  religious  creed  ;  but  it  was  fitted  for  gain- 
ing that  end,  in  so  far  as  the  external  rites  of  religion 
afforded  opportunities.  But  as  the  nation  had  no  cast 
of  priests,  nor  even  a  united  order  of  priesthood,  it 
naturally  followed,  that  though  individual  temples 
could  in  a  certain  degree  become  national  temples, 
this  must  depend,  for  the  most  part,  on  accidental 
circumstances  ;  and  where  every  thing  was  voluntary, 
nothing  could  be  settled  by  established  forms  like 
those  which  prevailed  in  other  countries.  The  tem- 
ples at  Olympia,  Dclos,  and  Delphi,  may  justly  be 
denominated  national  temples,  although  not  in  the 
same  sense  in  which  we  call  those  of  the  Jews  and  the 
Egyptians  national ;  but  their  effects  were  perhaps 
only  more  considerable  and  more  secure,  because 
every  thing  connected  with  them  was  voluntary.  The 
fruits  of  civilization  came  forth,  and  were  matured, 
under  the  protection  of  these  sanctuaries  also  ;  though 
not  in  the  same  manner  as  in  Egypt  and  Ethiopia  ;* 
and  if  we  hear  of  their  national  festivals,!  their  ora- 
cles, and  their  Amphictyonic  assemblies,  other  ideas 
are  connected  with  them,  than  in  other  countries. 
But  while  we  enumerate  them  individually,  let  it  not 

*Heeren.  Ideen.  etc.    Th.  ii.  S.  477,  &c. 
f  The  Greek  word  for  them,  is  xKinyvpis. 


128  CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 

be  forgotten,  that  all  these  fruits  ripened  on  one  and 
the  same  branch  ;  that  they,  therefore,  closely  united, 
could  ripen  only  together ;  that  by  this  very  means 
they  gained  a  higher  value  in  the  eyes  of  the  nation  ; 
and  that  this  value  must  be  estimated  by  their  influ- 
ence, rather  than  by  what  they  were  in  themselves. 
We  shall  hardly  be  mistaken,  if  we  consider  those 
sanctuaries  the  most  ancient,  which  were  celebrated 
for  their  oracles.  Those  of  Dodona  and  Delphi  were 
declared  to  be  so  by  the  voice  of  the  nation  ;  and 
both  of  them,  especially  that  of  Delphi,  were  so  far 
superior  to  the  rest,  that  they  are  in  some  measure 
to  be  esteemed  as  the  only  national  oracles.*  We 
leave  to  others  all  farther  investigation  of  these  insti- 
tutions ;  the  question  which  claims  our  attention,  is 
how  far  they  contributed  to  preserve  the  spirit  and 
the  union  of  the  nation.  They  did  not  effect  this  by 
being  regarded  as  intended  only  for  the  Hellenes. 
Foreigners  also  were  permitted  to  consult  the  oracles  ; 
and  to  recompense  the  answers  which  they  received 
by  consecrated  presents.  But  this  took  place  only  in 
individual  cases  ;  and  was  done  probably  by  none  but 
rulers  and  kings,  from  the  time  when  Alyattes  first 
made  application  at  Delphi. f  In  other  cases,  the 
difference  of  language  was  alone  sufficient  to  keep 

*Tbe  number  of  Grecian  oracles,  constantly  increasing,  became,  as  is 
well  known,  exceedingly  numerous.  With  the  exception  of  that  of  Dodona, 
which  was  of  Egj  ptio-Pelasgic  origin,  ihe  oracles  of  the  Greeks  were  almost 
exclusively  connected  with  the  worship  of  Apollo.  We  know  of  more  than 
fifty  of  his  oracles  ;  (see  Bulcnger  de  oraculis  et  vatibus,  in  Thes.  Ant.  Gr. 
vol.  vii.)  of  the  few  others,  the  more  celebrated  owed  their  origin  to  the 
same  god,  as  those  of  Mopsus  and  Trophonius  to  whom  he  had  imparted  the 
gift  of  prophesying.  How  much  of  the  rites  of  religion  among  the  Hellenes 
depended  on  the  religion  of  Apollo.  There  is  no  want  01  learned  compilations 
on  these  subjects  ;  but  a  wide  field  seems  here  to  be  opened  to  the  philo- 
sophic historian.  t  Herod,  i.  19. 


PRESERVATION  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CHARACTER.    129 

foreigners  away,  as  the  Pythian  priestess  spoke  al- 
ways in  Greek.  These  institutions  belonged,  if  not 
exclusively,  yet  principally  to  the  Hellenes  ;  of  whom 
both  individuals  and  cities  could  always  have  access 
to  them.  They  formed  the  connecting  link  between 
politics  and  the  popular  religion.  Their  great  polit- 
ical influence,  especially  in  the  states  of  the  Doric 
race,  is  too  well  known  from  history  to  make  it  ne- 
cessary for  us  to  adduce  proofs  of  it.  That  influence 
doubtless  became  less  after  the  Persian  wars.  Wheth- 
er this  diminution  of  influence  was  injurious  or  advan- 
tageous cannot  easily  be  decided.  When  the  recip- 
rocal hatred  of  the  Athenians  and  Spartans  excited 
them  to  the  fury  of  civil  war,  how  much  suffering 
would  have  been  spared  to  Greece,  if  the  voice  of  the 
gods  had  been  able  to  avert  the  storm.  But  the  affairs 
of  th«  Delphic  temple  were  still  considered  as  the 
concern  of  the  Grecian  nation  ;  and  even  after  infidel- 
ity had  usurped  the  place  of  the  ancient  superstition, 
the  violation  of  the  sanctuary  gave  the  politicians  a 
pretence,  sufficient  to  kindle  a  civil  war,  which  was 
destined  to  cost  Greece  its  liberties. 

Among  the  numerous  festivals  which  the  several 
Grecian  cities  were  accustomed  to  celebrate,  there 
were  some,  which  from  causes  that  are  no  longer  well 
known,  or  were  perhaps  quite  accidental,  soon  became 
really  national.  At  these,  foreigners  could  be  specta- 
tors ;  but  the  Hellenes  alone  were  permitted  to  contend 
for  the  prizes.  The  right  to  do  so  belonged  to  the  in- 
habitant of  the  farthest  colony,  as  well  as  of  the  mother 
country,  and  was  esteemed  inalienable  and  invaluable. 
Even  princes  were  proud  of  the  privilege,  for  which 
the  Persian  king  himself  would  have  sued  in  vain, 
17 


130  CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 

of  sending  their  chariots  to  the  races  of  Olyinpia. 
Every  one  has  learned  from  the  hymns  of  Pindar,  that, 
beside  the  Olympic  contests,  the  Pythian  games  at 
Delphi,  the  Nemean  at  Argos,  and  the  Isthmian  at 
Corinth,  belong  to  the  same  class.  As  to  the  origin 
of  these  games,  Homer  does  not  make  mention  of  them, 
which  he  would  hardly  have  neglected  to  do,  if 
they  had  existed  or  been  famous  in  his  day.  Yet 
the  foundation  of  them  was  laid  in  so  remote  a 
period  of  antiquity,  that  it  is  attributed  to  gods  and 
heroes.  Uncertain  as  are  these  traditions,  it  is 
remarkable,  that  a  different  origin  is  attributed  to 
each  one  oC-them.  Those  of  Olympia  were  instituted 
by  Hercules,  on  his  victorious  return,  and  were  design- 
ed as  contests  in  bodily  strength ;  those  of  Delphi 
were  in  their  origin  nothing  but  musical  exercises ; 
although  others  were  afterwards  added  to  them. 
Those  of  Nemea  were  originally  funeral  games ;  res- 
pecting the  occasion  of  instituting  those  of  the  Isthmus, 
there  are  different  accounts.* 

But  whatever  may  have  been  the  origin  of  the 
games,  they  became  national  ones.  This  did  not 
certainly  take  place  at  once ;  and  we  should  err,  if 
we  should  apply  the  accounts  given  us  of  the  Olympic 
games  in  the  flourishing  periods  of  Greece,  to  the 
earlier  ages.  On  the  contrary,  from  the  accurate 
registers  which  were  kept  by  the  judges,  we  learn 
most  distinctly,  with  respect  to  these  games,  that 
they  gained  their  importance  and  character  by  de- 
grees, f  They  have  not  forgotten  to  mention,  when 

*  All  the  passages  on  the  origin  and  the  arrangements  of  the  games,  may 
he  found  collected  in  Schmidtii  Prolegomenis  ad  Pindarum;  Potter's  Archa>- 
ologia;  and  Corsini  Disertiones  agomslicae  ;  and  others. 

t  See  Pausanias  in  EHacis,  1.  v.  9. 


PRESERVATION  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CHARACTER.    131 

the  different  kinds  of  contests  (for  at  first  there  were 
none  but  in  racing),  were  permitted  and  adopted. 
But  still  these  games  gained  importance,  although  it 
was  only  by  degrees  ;  and  the  time  came,  when  they 
merited  to  be  celebrated  by  a  Pindar. 

In  this  manner,  therefore,  these  festivals  and  the 
games  connected  with  them,  received  a  national  char- 
acter. They  were  peculiar  to  the  Grecians ;  and  on 
that  account  also  were  of  great  utility.  "  Those  are 
justly  praised,"  Isocrates*  very  happily  observes, 
61  who  instituted  these  famous  assemblies,  and  thus 
made  it  customary  for  us  to  come  together  as  allies, 
having  set  aside  our  hostilities;  to  increase  our 
friendship  by  recalling  our  relationship  in  our  com- 
mon vows  and  sacrifices  ;  to  renew  our  ancient  family 
friendships,  and  to  form  new  ones.  They  have  pro- 
vided, that  neither  the  unpolished  nor  the  well  edu- 
cated should  leave  the  games  without  profit ;  but  that 
in  this  assembly  of  the  Hellenes  in  one  place,  some 
may  display  their  wealth,  and  others  observe  the  con- 
tests, and  none  be  present  without  a  purpose,  but 
each  have  something  of  which  to  boast ;  the  one  part, 
while  they  see  those  engaged  in  the  contests  making 
exertions  on  their  account ;  the  other,  when  they 
consider  that  all  this  concourse  of  people  has  assem- 
bled, to  be  spectators  of  their  contests.77 

The  accounts  which  we  read  of  the  splendor  of 
these  games,  especially  of  the  Olympic,  where  the 
nation  of  the  Hellenes  appeared  in  its  glory,  give  a 
high  idea  of  them.  And  yet  it  was  public  opinion, 
far  more  than  the  reality,  which  gave  to  the  crown  of 
victory  its  value.  The  glory  of  being  conqueror 

*Isocrates.  Panegyr.Op  p.  49,  Steph. 


132  CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 

in  them,  was  the  highest  with  which  the  Grecian  was 
acquainted ;  it  conferred  honour,  not  only  on  him 
who  won  the  palm,  but  on  his  family  and  on  his 
native  city.  He  was  not  honoured  in  Olympia  alone  ; 
his  victory  was  the  victory  of  his  native  place  :  here 
he  was  solemnly  received  ;  new  festivals  were  insti- 
tuted on  his  account ;  he  had  afterwards  a  right  of 
living  at  the  public  charge  in  the  prytanea.  A  vic- 
tory at  Olympia,  says  Cicero  with  truth,*  rendered 
the  victor  illustrious,  no  less  than  his  consulate  the 
Roman  consul.  The  tournaments  of  the  middle  age 
were  something  similar;  or  might  have  become 
something  similar,  if  the  relations  of  society  had  not 
prevented.  But  as  a  distinct  line  of  division  was 
drawn  between  the  classes,  they  became  interesting 
to  but  one  class.  Birth  decided  who  could  take  a 
part  in  them,  and  who  were  excluded.  There  was 
nothing  of  that  among  the  Hellenes.  The  lowest  of 
the  people  could  join  at  Olympia  in  the  contest  for  the 
branch  of  the  sacred  olive-tree,  as  well  as  Alci blades, 
or  even  the  ruler  of  Syracuse  with  all  the  splendor  of 
his  equipage. 

The  influence  on  the  political  relations  of  the 
Grecian  states,  was  perhaps  not  so  great  as  Isocrates 
represents.  A  solemnity  of  a  few  days  could  hardly 
be  sufficient  to  cool  the  passions  and  still  the  mu- 
tual enmities  of  the  several  tribes.  History  men- 
tions no  peace,  which  was  ever  negotiated,  and  still 
less  which  was  ever  concluded  at  Olympia.  But  so 
much  the  greater  was  the  influence  exercised  over  the 
culture  of  the  nation  ;  and  if  the  culture  of  a  nation 

•Cicero.  Quawt.  Tusc.  ii.  17. 


PRESERVATION  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CHARACTER.    133 

decides  its  character,  our  plan  requires  of  us  to  pause 
and  consider  it. 

In  all  their  institutions,  when  they  are  considered 
in  the  light  in  which  the  Greeks  regarded  them,  we 
shall  commonly  find  proofs  of  the  noble  dispositions 
of  the  Hellenes.  And  these  are  to  be  observed  in  the 
games,  where  every  thing,  which  was  in  itself  beau- 
tiful and  glorious  ;  bodily  strength  and  skill  in  box- 
ing, wrestling,  and  running  ;  the  splendor  of  opu- 
lence, as  displayed  in  the  equipages  for  the  charlP 
ot  races  ;  excellence  in  poetry,  and  soon  also  in  other 
intellectual  productions,  were  here  rewarded  with 
their  prize.  But  the  degree  of  importance  assigned 
to  the  productions  of  mind  was  not  every  where 
the  same.  Musical  contests,*  in  which  the  Greeks 
united  poetry,  song,  and  music,  were  common  in 
those  larger  games,  as  well  as  in  those  hardly  less 
splendid  ones,  which  were  instituted  in  the  several 
cities.  But  there  was  a  difference  in  their  relative 
importance.  At  Olympia,  though  they  were  not 
entirely  excluded,  they  were  yet  less  essential  ;f  they 
formed  from  the  beginning  the  primary  object  in  the 
Pythian  games.  They  held  the  same  rank  in  several 

*  The  Greeks  made  a  distinction  between  iyun;  <yuftvixet  and  fitvffi*»l.  The 
former  relate  to  the  exercises  of  the  body  ;  the  latter  to  the  works  of  genius ;  that 
is,  to  poetry  and  whatever  was  connected  with  it.  At  these  festivals  it  never  enter- 
ed the  mind  of  the  Greeks  to  institute  prizes  for  competitors  in  the  arts  of  design  ; 
at  least  not  in  poetry.  Pliny,  however,  mentions  a  competition  of  painters, 
xxxv.  35.;  The  cause  of  this  may  in  part  be,  that  those  arts  were  not  so  soon 
brought  to  perfection  as  the  former  ones  ;  but  I  hardly  doubt  that  the  cause  was 
rather  that  the  Greeks  conceived  it  proper  to  institute  competition  only  in  those  arts, 
of  which  the  results  were  temporary  ;  and  not  in  those,  of  which  the  productions  are 
exhibited  in  public,  and  are  lasting ;  for  in  them,  as  in  sculpture  for  example,  there 
is  a  constant  exhibition,  and  therefore  a  constant  emulation. 

t  See  the  instructive  Versuch  von  den  muMcalischen  Wettstreiten  der 
Alten,  which  is  to  be  found  in  Der  neuen  Bibl.  der  Scuonen  Wissenschaften, 


vn. 


134  .  CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 

festivals  of  the  smaller  cities,  in  the  Panathensea  at 
Athens,  in  Delos,*  at  Epidaurus,  Ephesus,  and  other 
places.  But  even  where  no  actual  competition  took 
place,  every  one  who  felt  possessed  of  sufficient  talents, 
was  permitted  to  come  forward  with  the  productions  of 
art.  The  rhapsodist  and  the  performer  on  the  flute, 
the  lyric  poet,  the  historian,  and  the  orator,  had  each 
his  place.  The  hymns  of  Pindar  were  chanted  in 
honour  of  the  victors,  not  in  emulation  of  others ; 
Aid  Herodotus  had  no  rival,  when  he  read  the  books 
of  his  history  at  Olympia.  The  bosom  of  the  Helle- 
nes was  large  enough  to  afford  room  for  the  reception 
of  every  thing  which  was  glorious  and  beautiful,  and 
it  was  especially  at  Olympia  and  Delphi,  that  the 
observer  of  the  character  of  the  Greeks  could  justly 
break  forth  in  exclamations  of  admiring  astonish- 
ment. 

The  Amphictionic  assemblies,  as  they  were  called 
by  the  Grecians,  appear  to  have  exercised  a  still 
greater  influence  on  political  union,  f  Under  that 
name  the  assemblies  are  signified,  which  were  held 
in  some  common  temple  by  several  tribes  which 
occupied  the  territory  round  it,  or  by  neighbouring 
cities,  in  order  to  consult  on  the  affairs  connected  with 
the  sanctuary,  and  on  others  of  a  more  general  nature. 

*  The  musical  contests  in  Delos,  with  which  gymnastic  exercises  soon 
came  to  be  connected,  were  the  most  ancient  Ionic  national  games  ;  as  Thu- 
cydidcs,  iii.  104,  has  already  proved  from  the  Homeric  hymn  to  Apollo. 
They  were  originally  connected  with  the  service  of  that  god,  and  were 
communicated  with  it  by  the  lonians  to  the  Dorians.  Hence  they  were 
not  regarded  at  Olympia,  iN'emea,  and  on  the  Isthmus,  as  forming  an  essen- 
tial part  of  the  solemnity. 

f  The  Greek  word  is  sometimes  spelt  HpQun'iom ,  those,  who  dwell  round  about, 
sometimes  dftfmrutns  from  the  hero  Amphictyon,  called  by  tradition  the  founder 
of  the  same. 


PRESERVATION  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CHARACTER.    135 

It  was  therefore  characteristic  of  these  assemblies, 
first,  that  a  temple  or  sanctuary  formed  their  central 
point ;  farther,  that  several  tribes  or  cities  participat- 
ed in  them ;  thirdly,  that  assemblies  of  the  people, 
festivals,  and,  of  course,  games  were  connected  with 
them  ;  and  fourthly,  that  besides  these  popular  assem- 
blies and  festivals,  deputies  under  various  names, 
(Theori,  Pylagorae)  were  sent  by  the  several  states 
which  participated  in  them,  to  deliberate  on  subjects 
of  common  interest.  We  shall  be  able  to  see  these 
institutions  in  their  true  light,  after  taking  a  view  of 
the  origin  of  temples  in  Greece. 

As  soon  as  the  manners  of  cities  were  distinctly 
formed  with  the  Greeks,  and  the  individual  cities  in 
the  mother  country,  no  less  than  in  the  colonies,  had 
for  the  most  part  become  rich  by  means  of  commerce  and 
industry  in  the  arts,  temples  were  built  by  single  towns. 
Beside  this,  as  we  shall  show  more  fully  in  another 
place,  the  luxury  of  the  public  was  connected  almost 
exclusively  with  these  temples,  and  they  were  to 
serve  as  the  measure  of  the  splendor  and  wealth  of 
the  respective  cities.  The  building  of  temples,  there- 
fore, became,  especially  after  the  Persian  wars,  and 
even  a  century  before  them,  a  matter,  in  which  the 
honour  of  the  cities  was  concerned,  and  their  public 
spirit  was  to  be  exhibited.  In  this  manner  that  mul- 
titude of  temples  arose,  which  still  present,  in  their 
numerous  ruins,  masterpieces  of  architecture.  But 
it  was  not  and  could  not  have  been  so  in  the  earliest 
times.  The  building  of  a  temple  was  then  commonly 
a  joint  undertaking ;  partly  because  these  temples, 
however  much  they  may  have  been  inferior  to  the 


136  CHAPTER  SEVENTH, 

later  ones,*  were  still  too  costly  to  be  borne  by  the 
separate  communities  ;  and  partly  and  chiefly  because 
such  common  sanctuaries  were  needed  for  celebrating 
the  common  festivals  of  each  tribe. 

Such  a  sanctuary  formed  in  some  measure  a  point 
of  union.  It  was  an  object  of  common  care  ;  it  be- 
came necessary  to  watch  over  the  temple  itself,  its 
estates,  and  its  possessions  ;  and  as  this"  could  not  be 
done  by  the  several  communities  at  large,  what  was 
more  natural,  than  to  depute  envoys  for  the  purpose  ? 
But  in  a  nation,  where  every  thing  was  freely  develop- 
ed, and  so  little  was  fixed  by  established  forms,  it  could 
not  but  happen,  that  other  affairs  of  general  interest 
should  occasionally  be  discussed  ;  either  at  the  pop- 
ular festivals,  or  in  the  assemblies  of  the  delegates ; 
and  that  is  the  most  probable,  as  the  allies  consid- 
ered themselves,  for  the  most  part,  as  branches  of 
the  same  nation.  They  became  therefore  the  points 
of  political  union  ;  the  idea  of  a  formal  alliance  was 
not  yet  connected  with  them,  but  might  be  expected 
from  their  maturity. 

We  find  traces  of  such  Amphictyonic  assemblies  in 
Greece  itself,  and  in  the  colonies. f      Their  origin, 

*  See  what  Pausanias,  x.  p.  810,  says  of  the  temples,  which  were  succes- 
sively built  at  Delphi. 

t  A  catalogue  of  them,  which  might  perhaps  be  enlarged,  has  been  given 
by  St.  Croix,  Des  ancient  Gourernements  federatift,  p.  115,  etc.  We  follow 
him,  as  it  will  afford  at  the  same  time,  proofs  of  what  has  been  said  above. 
There  was  such  an  Amphictyonia  in  Bceotia,  at  Orchestus,  in  a  temple  of 
Neptune  ;  in  Attica,  in  a  temple,  of  which  the  same  is  not  mentioned  ;  at 
Corinth,  on  the  isthmus,  in  the  temple  of  Neptune  ;  in  the  island  Calauria, 
near  Argolis,  also  in  a  temple  of  Neptune  ;  another  in  Argolis,  in  the  cele- 
brated temple  of  Juno  {'H{«7«») ;  in  Blis,  in  a  temple  of  Neptune  ;  also  on  tlift 
Grecian  islands  ;  in  Eubcea,  in  the  temple  of  Diana  Amaurusia  ;  in  Delos,  in 
the  temple  of  Apollo,  the  Panegyris,  of  which  we  have  already  made  men- 
tion, and  which  served  for  all  the  neighbouring  islands;  in  Asia,  the  Panio 


PRESERVATION  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CHARACTER.    137 

especially  in  the  mother  country,  is  very  ancient ;  and 
we  may  in  most  cases  assert,  and  with  justice,  that  it  be- 
longs to  the  period,  when  the  republican  forms  of  govern- 
ment were  not  yet  introduced,  and  the  constitutions  of 
the  tribes  were  in  vigour.  For  we  find  that  those 
who  shared  in  them,  were  much  more  frequently 
influenced  to  assemble  by  tribes  than  by  cities.  And 
this  affords  an  obvious  reason,  why  they  lost  their 
influence  as  the  nation  advanced  in  culture,  except 
where  peculiar  causes  operated  to  preserve  them.  In 
the  flourishing  period  of  Greece,  most  of  them  had 
become  mere  antiquities,  which  were  only  occasionally 
mentioned  ;  or,  if  they  continued  in  the  popular  fes- 
tivals which  were  connected  with  them,  (and  popular 
festivals  are  always  longest  preserved),  they  were 
but  bodies  without  soul.  This  result  was  a  necessary 
one,  since,  on  the  downfall  of  the  constitutions  of  the 
tribes,  the  whole  political  life  of  the  nation  was  con- 
nected with  the  cities,  the  spirit  of  the  tribes  had  be- 
come annihilated  by  the  spirit  of  the  cities,  and  each 
of  the  cities  had  erected  its  own  temples. 

Yet  of  these  Amphictyonic  councils,  one  rose  to  a 
higher  degree  of  importance,  and  always  preserved  a 
certain  measure  of  dignity  ;  so  that  it  was  called,  by 
way  of  eminence,  the  Amphictyonic  council.  This 
was  the  one  held  at  Delphi  and  Thermopylae.* 
When  we  bear  in  mind  the  ideas  which  have  just  been 

nium  at  Mycale,  afterwards  at  Ephesus,  for  the  lonians  ;  the  temple  of  Apollo 
Trioplus  for  the  Dorians ;  for  the  ^Eolians,  the  temple  of  Apollo  Grynasus. 
Even  the  neighbouring  Asiatic  tribes,  the  Carians  and  the  Lycians,  had  simi- 
lar institutions,  either  peculiar,  or  adopted  of  the  Greeks.  The  proofs  of 
these  accounts  may  be  found  collected  in  the  abovementioned  author. 

'  According  to  Strabo,  ix.p  289,  it  does  not  appear  that  the  assembly  was 
held  alternately  at  Delphi  and  Thermopylae;  but  the  deputies  first  came  to- 
gether at  Thermopylae  to  sacrifice  to  Ceres;  and  then  proceeded  to  Delphi, 
where  business  was  transacted. 

18 


138  CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 

illustrated,  we  shall  hardly  be  led  to  expect,  that  the 
nation,  in  its  whole  extent,  would  ever  have  been  united 
by  any  common  bond;  and  still  less  that  this  bond  should 
have  been  more  closely  drawn  with  the  progress  of 
time,  and  finally  have  united  all  the  Grecian  states  in 
one  political  body.  But  this  Amphictyonic  assembly 
contributed  much  to  the  preserving  of  national  feeling 
and  national  union,  and  as  such  deserves  to  be  con- 
sidered by  us  with  more  attention. 

Strabo  concedes,*  that  even  in  his  time  it  was 
impossible  to  ascertain  the  origin  of  the  Amphictyonic 
assembly ;  this  however  was  certain,  that  it  belonged 
to  remote  antiquity.  We  must  here  remark,  that 
Homer  does  not  make  any  mention  of  it;  and  yet 
Homer  speaks  of  the  wealthy  Delphi  ;f  and  although 
his  silence  affords  no  proof  that  it  did  not  exist,  we 
may  at  least  infer,  that  the  council  was  not  then  so 
important  as  it  afterwards  came  to  be.  The  causes 
which  made  this  Amphictyonia  so  much  superior  to  all 
the  rest,  are  not  expressly  given ;  but  should  we  err, 
if  we  were  to  look  for  them  in  the  ever  increasing 
dignity  and  influence  of  the  Delphic  oracle?  When 
we  call  to  mind  the  great  importance  attached  to  the 
liberty  of  consulting  this  oracle,  scarcely  a  doubt  on 
the  subject  can  remain.  The  states  which  were 
members  of  this  Amphictyonia,  had  no  exclusive  right 
to  that  privilege  ;  but  had  the  care  of  the  temple,  and 
therefore  of  the  oracle,  in  their  hands.J  No  ancient 
writer  has  preserved  for  us  so  accurate  an  account 
of  the  regulations  of  that  institution,  that  all  important 

*  <Mrabo.  c  1.  t  II.  is.  404,  4O5.     Homer  calls  it  Pytho. 

|  Individual  states  obtained  the  right  of  being  the  first  to  consult  the  oracle, 
T»«M*>ri/«,  and  this  right  was  valued  very  highly. 


PRESERVATION  OP  THE  NATIONAL  CHARACTEft.    139 

questions  respecting  them  can  be  answered ;  and  those 
who  speak  of  them  do  not  agree  with  each  other.  But 
from  a  comparison  of  their  statements,  we  may  infer, 
that  though  this  Amphictyonia  did  not  by  any  means 
embrace  the  whole  of  the  Hellenes,  yet  the  most  con- 
siderable states  of  the  mother  country  and  of  Asia  Mi- 
nor took  part  in  it.  According  to  JEschines,*  there 
were  twelve  of  them,  (although  he  enumerates  but 
eleven) ;  Thessalians,  Boeotians,  (not  the  Thebans 
only,  he  expressly  remarks)  ;  Dorians,  lonians,  Per- 
rhsebians,  Magnesians,  Phthiotians,  Maleans,f  Pho- 
cians,  (Etaeans,  Locrians ;  the  twelfth  state  was 
probably  that  of  the  inhabitants  of  Delphi  themselves. 
Every  city  belonging  to  these  tribes,  had  the  right  of 
sending  deputies ;  the  smallest  had  an  equal  right 
with  the  largest ;  and  the  votes  of  all  were  equal ;  of 
the  lonians,  says  /Eschines,  the  deputies  from  Ere- 
tria  in  Eubcea  and  from  Priene  in  Asia  Minor,!  were 
equal  to  those  from  Athens  ;  of  the  Dorians,  those 
from  Dorium  in  Laconia,  and  from  Cytinium  on  Par- 
nassus, had  as  much  weight  as  those  from  Lacedaemon. 
But  the  votes  were  not  counted  by  cities,  but  by 

*  ^schines  de  Falsa  Legatione  iii.  p.  285,  ed.  Reisk.  This  is  the  most  impor- 
tant passage.  St.  Croix,  p.  27,  has  compared  the  discrepant  accounts  of  Pausani- 
as  x.  p.  815,  and  Harpocration  v.  AfttfiKruatm.  The  authority  of  JLschines,  res- 
pecting his  own  times,  seems  to  me  of  more  weight  than  all  the  others  ;  and  there- 
fore I  follow  him  alone.  No  one  had  better  means  of  information  than  he.  But 
many  changes  in  the  regulations  were  subsequently  made  by  the  Macedonians  and 
the  Romans. 

t  The  four  last  were  all  in  Thessaly.  The  reason  of  their  being  thus 
distinguished  from  the  rest  of  the  Thessalians  is  probably  to  be  found  in  the 
privilege,  which  they  had  preserved,  of  a  separate  vote.  Herodotus  vii,  132, 
divides  them  in  the  same  manner. 

J  It  is  therefore  certain,  that  the  individual  colonies  in  Asia  Minor  partici- 
pated In  the  assembly.  We  might  suggest  the  question,  whether  all  the 
Asiatic  colonies,  and  whether  colonies  in  other  regions,  did  the  same. 


140  CHAPTER  SEVENTH. 

tribes  ;  each  tribe  had  two  votes,  and   the  majority 
decided.* 

And  how  large  was  the  sphere  of  action,  in  which 
this  assembly  was  accustomed  to  exert  its  influence? 
Its  first  duty  was  to  take  charge  of  the  temple ;  its 
property  ;  its  presents,  the  offerings  of  piety ;  its 
sanctity.  From  this  it  naturally  follows,  that  the 
assembly  possessed  judiciary  powers.  Persons  who 
had  committed  sacrilege  on  the  temple,  were  summon- 
ed before  its  tribunal,  where  judgment  was  passed 
and  the  acts  of  penance  and  punishment  decreed.f 
But  to  these,  political  objects  were  added  at  a  very 
early  period  ;  such  as  the  preservation  of  peace 
among  the  confederates,  and  the  accommodating  of 
contentions,  which  had  arisen.  We  have,  it  is  true, 
no  proof,  that  those  who  participated  in  the  assembly, 
considered  themselves  as  nearly  allied  to  each  other ; 
but  it  is  as  little  doubtful,  that  under  the  protection 
of  this  sanctuary,  certain  ideas  arose  and  were  diffus- 
ed, which  might  be  considered  as  forming,  in  some 
measure,  the  foundation  of  a  system  of  national  law, 
although  it  was  never  brought  to  maturity.  Of  this 
\ve  have  indisputable  proof  in  the  ancient  oaths, 
which  were  taken  by  all  the  members  of  the  assembly, 
and  which  have  been  preserved  by  /Eschines.J  "  I 

*For  all  farther  knowledge  which  we  have  of  the  regulations  of  the  Am- 
phictyonic  council,  we  are  indebted  to  Strabo  ix.  p.  289.  According  to  him 
each  city  sent  a  deputy.  These  assembled  twice  a  year,  at  the  equinoxes. 
We  are  ignorant  of  the  length  of  the  sessions  of  the  assembly,  whether  any 
definite  time  was  fixed  for  them,  or  not ;  and  of  many  other  things  respect- 
ing them. 

f  A*  for  instance,  against  the  Phocians  at  the  beginning  of  the  last  sacred 
war,  and  afterwards  against  the  Locrians.  Demosthenes  has  preserved  for  us  two 
of  these  decrees  (5fl'y/t««T«),  Op.  i.  p.  278.  Reisk.  From  them  we  learn  the 
forms  in  which  they  were  written. 

t  jEschines,  1.  c.  p.  284. 


PRESERVATION  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CHARACTER.    141 

read,"  says  the  orator,  "  in  the  assembly  the  oaths, 
to  which  the  heaviest  imprecations  were  attached  ; 
and  by  which  our  ancestors*  were  obliged  to  promise 
never  to  destroy  any  one  of  the  Amphictyonic  cities,  f 
nor  to  cut  off  their  streams,^  whether  in  war  or  in 
peace  ;  should  any  city  dare,  notwithstanding,  to  do  so, 
to  take  up  arms  against  it  and  lay  it  waste ;  and  if 
any  one  should  sin  against  the  god,  or  form  any 
scheme  against  the  sanctuary,  to  oppose  him  with 
hand  and  foot,  and  word  and  deed."  This  form  of 
oath,  it  cannot  be  doubted,  was  very  ancient,  and 
expresses  with  sufficient  clearness,  the  original  objects 
of  the  confederation.  But  it  shows  equally  distinctly, 
that  the  attainment  of  these  ends  depended  much 
more  on  the  circumstances  and  condition  of  the  age, 
than  on  the  members  of  the  council  themselves. 

To  him  who  measures  the  value  of  this  assembly, 
only  by  the  influence  which  it  had  in  preventing  wars 
among  the  tribes  that  took  part  in  it,  its  utility  may 
seem  very  doubtful ;  as  history  has  preserved  no 
proofs  of  such  influence.  But  even  if  it  had  existed 
in  the  earliest  ages,  it  must  have  ceased  of  itself,  when 
individual  states  of  Greece  became  so  powerful,  as  to 
assume  a  supremacy  over  the  rest.  Sparta  and 
Athens  referred  the  decision  of  their  quarrels  to  Del- 
phi, as  little  as  Prussia  and  Austria  to  Ratisbon. 
But  it  would  be  wrong  to  impute  the  blame  of  this  to 
the  members  of  the  council.  They  had  no  strong  arm, 
except  when  the  god  extended  his  to  protect  them ; 
or  some  other  power  took  arms  in  their  behalf.  But 
it  is  a  high  degree  of  merit  to  preserve  principles  in 
*  o;  *fx*iti. 

f  Anufranv  -rair,<rai,  to  render  uninhabitable,  by  removing  its  inhabitants. 
J  By  means  of  which  they  would  have  become  uninhabitable. 


142  CHAPTEll  SEVENTH. 

the  memory  of  the  nations,  even  when  it  is  impossible 
to  prevent  their  violation.  And  when  we  observe 
that  several  ideas  relating  to  the  law  of  nations,  were 
indelibly  imprinted  on  the  character  of  the  Greeks  ;  if 
in  the  midst  of  all  their  civil  wars,  they  never  laid 
waste  any  Grecian  city,  even  when  it  was  subdued  ; 
ought  we  not  attribute  this  in  some  measure  to  the 
Amphictyonic  assembly  ?  They  had  it  not  in  their 
power  to  preserve  peace ;  but  they  contributed  to 
prevent  the  Grecians  from  forgetting,  even  in  war,, 
that  they  still  were  Grecians. 


THE  PERSIAN  WARS  AND  THEIR  CONSEQUENCES.    143 


CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 


THE  PERSIAN  WARS  AND  THEIR  CONSEQUENCES. 

SINCE  the  Trojan  war,  no  opportunity  had  been 
presented  to  the  Greek  nation,  of  acting  as  one  people 
in  any  equal  and  common  undertaking.  The  institu- 
tions which  we  have  just  described,  preserved,  in  a 
certain  degree,  the  national  spirit;  but  they  were 
by  no  means  sufficient  to  produce  political  union ; 
to  which  any  tendency  was  counteracted  by  the 
whole  condition  and  internal  relations  of  the  nation. 
Even  the  colonies  were  unfavourable  to  it ;  not  only 
by  their  distance,  but  still  more  by  the  independence 
which  they  enjoyed.  In  our  days,  how  soon  do  col- 
onies which  become  independent,  grow  estranged 
from  the  mother  countries,  after  having  long  stood  in 
the  closest  connexion  with  them. 

In  the  century  which  preceded  the  Trojan  war,* 
the  Grecian  states,  excepting  the  Asiatic  cities, 
which  languished  under  the  Persian  yoke,  had  in 
many  respects  made  advances  in  culture.  Freedom 
had  been  triumphantly  established  in  almost  every 
partf  of  the  mother  country.  The  tyrants  who  had 
usurped  power  in  the  cities,  had  been  overthrown  in 
part  by  the  Spartans,  in  part  by  the  citizens  them- 

*  Between  the  years  600  and  500  before  the  Christian  era. 

fThessaly  was  an  exception,  where  the  government  of  the  Aleuadse  still 
continued,  Although  it  was  tottering  ;  for  which  reason  they,  like  the  Pisis- 
tratidee,  invited  the  Persians  into  Greece. 


144  CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 

selves  ;  and  popular  governments  had  been  introduc- 
ed in  their  stead.  Above  all,  Athens  had  shaken  off 
the  Pisistratidae,  and  came  off  victorious  from  the  con- 
test which  it  had  been  obliged  to  sustain  for  its  liberty. 
In  the  consciousness  of  its  youthful  energies,  Herodo- 
tus says,*  "  Athens,  which  before  was  great,  when 
freed  from  its  usurpers,  became  still  greater."  At 
the  expulsion  of  the  Pisistratidae,  Sparta  had,  for  the 
first  time,  undertaken  to  exert  an  influence  beyond 
the  Peloponnesus ;  Corinth  also  had,  for  eighty-four 
years,!  been  in  possession  of  freedom  ;  and  a  similar 
advantage  had  been  gained  by  several  of  the  less 
powerful  cities,  by  SicyonJ  and  Epidaurus.  The 
islands,  no  less  than  the  continent,  were  in  a  flourish- 
ing condition  :  their  independence  stood  at  that  time 
in  no  danger  from  the  Persians  or  the  Athenians. 
Samos  never  saw  an  age  like  that  of  Polycrates,  who 
trembled  at  his  own  prosperity  ;§  the  small  island  of 
Naxus  could  muster  eight  thousand  heavy-armed 
men  ;||  the  inconsiderable  Siphnus,  very  much  enrich- 
ed by  its  gold  mines,  deemed  it  expedient  to  consult 
the  Pythian  oracle  on  the  duration  of  its  fortunes. U 
The  cities  of  Magna  Graecia,  Tarentum,  Croton,  and 
Sybaris,**  had  attained  the  period  of  their  splendor  : 
in  Sicily,  Syracuse,  although  disturbed  by  internal 
dissensions,  was  yet  so  powerful,  that  Gelon,  its  ruler, 
claimed  in  the  Persian  wars  the  chief  command  of 
all  the  Grecian  forces  ;  Marseilles  arose  on  the  shores 

*Herod.  v.  66.  t  The  year  584  before  Christ. 

%  From  about  the  year  600  B.  C.    Epidaurus  at  the  same  time. 
§  Herod,  iii.  72.  ||  Herod,  v.  30.  IT  Pausan.  Phoc.  p.  628. 

**  Herod,  vi.  127.    Yet  Sybaris  was  destroyed  just  before  the  Persian 
wars,  by  the  Crotoniatae. 


THE  PEUSIAN  WARS  AND  THEIR  CONSEQUENCES.    145 

of  Gaul ;  Cyrene  was  established  on  the  coast  of 
Lybia. 

But  some  grand  object  of  common  interest  still  was 
wanting ;  and  as  the  Spartans  were  already  jealous 
of  Athens,  it  was  the  more  to  be  feared,  that  the 
consciousness  of  increasing  strength  would  lead  to 
nothing  but  the  mutual  ruin  of  the  cities  in  civil  wars. 
The  Persian  wars  supplied  the  object  which  was 
needed.  Although  they  by  no  means  resulted  in  the 
establishment  of  that  general  union  of  the  whole  nation 
of  the  Hellenes,  of  which  a  great  man  had  formed  the 
idea  without  believing  in  the  possibility  of  realizing 
it ;  the  whole  condition  of  Greece  in  succeeding  ages, 
its  foreign  and  domestic  relations,  were  all  a  conse- 
quence of  them  ;  and  we  do  not  say  too  much,  when 
we  assert,  that  the  political  character  of  Greece  was 
formed  by  them. 

There  never  was  any  general  union  of  the  Greeks 
against  the  Persians  ;  but  the  idea  of  such  a  confede- 
ration had  been  called  up ;  and  was,  if  not  entirely, 
yet  in  a  great  measure  carried  into  effect.  What  is 
more  arduous,  than  in  times  of  great  difficulty,  when 
every  one  fears  for  himself,  and  is  chiefly  concerned 
for  self  preservation,  to  preserve  among  a  multitude 
of  small  states,  that  public  spirit  and  union,  in  which 
all  strength  consists.  The  Athenians  were  left  almost 
alone  to  repel  the  first  invasion  of  Darius  Hystaspes  ; 
but  the  glory  won  at  Marathon  was  not  sufficient  to 
awaken  general  enthusiasm,  when  greater  danger 
threatened  from  the  invasion  of  Xerxes.  All  the 
Thessalians,  the  Locrians,  and  Bosotians,  except  the 
cities  of  Thespise  and  Plateae,  sent  earth  and  water  to 
the  Persian  king  at  the  first  call  to  submit ;  although 
19 


146  CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 

these  tokens  of  subjection  were  attended  by  the 
curses  of  the  rest  of  the  Greeks,  and  the  vow  that  a 
tithe  of  their  estates  should  be  devoted  to  the  deity  of 
Delphi.*  Yet  of  the  rest  of  the  Greeks,  who  did  not 
favour  Persia,  some  were  willing  to  assist  only  on 
condition  of  being  appointed  to  conduct  and  command 
the  whole  ;f  others,  if  their  country  could  be  the  first 
to  be  protected  ;|  others  sent  a  squadron,  which  was 
ordered  to  wait  till  it  was  certain  which  side  would 
gain  the  victory  ;$  and  others  pretended  they  were 
held  back  by  the  declarations  of  an  oracle.  ||  So  true 
is  the  remark  of  Herodotus,  that,  however  ill  it  might 
be  taken  by  others,  he  was  constrained  to  declare,  that 
Greece  was  indebted  for  its  freedom  to  Athens.il 
Athens,  with  Themistocles  for  its  leader,  gave  life 
to  the  courage  of  the  other  states ;  induced  them  to 
lay  aside  their  quarrels  ;  yielded,  where  it  was  duty  to 
yield  ;**  and  always  relied  on  its  own  strength,  while 
it  seemed  to  expect  safety  from  all.  Hope  was  not 
disappointed  in  the  result ;  the  battle  of  Salamis  gave 

Herod,  vii.  132. 

t  Gelon  of  Syracuse ;  Herod,  vii.  158.  On  this  condition,  he  promised  to 
to  produce  an  army  of  28,000  men,  well  equipped ;  a  fleet  of  2OO  triremes, 
and  as  much  grain  as  was  desired.  "  Of  truth*"  answered  the  Lacedaemoni- 
an ambassador,  "  Agamemnon,  the  descendant  of  Pelops,  would  remonstrate 
loudly,  were  he  to  hear  that  the  chief  command  had  been  taken  from  the 
Spartans,  by  Gelon  the  Syracusan."  And  when  Gelon  declared,  that  he 
would  be  content  with  the  command  by  sea ;  the  Athenian  envoy  quickly 
replied, "  King  of  Syracuse,  Hellas  has  sent  us  to  you,  not  because  it  needs  a 
general,  but  because  it  needs  an  army." 

f  The  Thessalians,  who  had  however  already  surrendered.  Herod,  vii. 
172. 

§  The  Corcyraeans ;  Herod,  vii.  168.        ||  The  Cretans ;  Herod,  vii.  169. 

IT  Herod.  viiT  139.  A  noble  testimony  in  favor  of  Athens,  and  at  the  same 
time,  of  the  free  spirit  and  impartiality  of  Herodotus.  "  I  must  here,"  says 
this  lover  of  truth,  "  express  to  all  Greece,  an  opiniou,  which  to  most  men  is 
odious  ;  but  yet  that,  which  to  me  seems  the  truth,  I  will  not  conceal." 

<*  As  at  Artemisium  :  Herod,  viii.3. 


THE  PERSIAN  WARS  AND  THEIR  CONSEQUENCES.    147 

a  new  impulse  to  the  spirit  of  the  Greeks  ;  and  when 
in  the  following  year*  the  battle  of  Plateae  gave  a 
decision  to  the  contest,  the  greater  part  of  Hellas  was 
assembled  in  the  field  of  battle,  f 

We  would  give  no  description  of  those  glorious 
days,  but  only  of  the  consequences  which  they  had  for 
Greece.  In  the  actions  of  men,  greatness  is  seldom  or 
never  quite  unmixed  with  meanness ;  and  he  who 
investigates  the  actions  of  those  times  with  care,  will 
find  many  and  various  proofs  of  it.  And  yet  in  the 
whole  compass  of  history,  we  can  find  no  series  of 
events,  which  deserve  to  be  compared  with  the  grand 
spectacle,  then  exhibited ;  and  with  all  the  exaggera- 
tions of  the  orators  and  poets  the  feeling  of  pride,  with 
which  the  Greek  reflected  on  his  achievements,  was  a 
just  one.  A  small  country  had  withstood  the  attack 
of  half  a  continent ;  it  had  not  only  saved  the  most 
costly  possessions,  which  were  endangered,  its  liberty, 
its  independence  ;  it  felt  itself  strong  enough  to  con- 
tinue the  contest,  and  did  not  lay  aside  its  arms, 
till  it  was  permitted  to  prescribe  the  conditions  of 
peace. 

The  price  of  that  peace  was  the  emancipation  of 
the  Greek  colonies  in  Asia,  from  the  Persian  yoke. 
Twenty  years  before  the  invasion  of  Xerxes,  when 
those  cities  had  attempted  to  throw  off  the  supremacy 
of  the  Persians,  the  Athenians  had  boldly  ventured  to 
send  a  squadron  with  troops  to  reinforce  them  ;  and 
that  expedition  occasioned  the  burning  of  Sardis, 
which  was  the  capital  of  the  Persian  dominions  in 
Asia  Minor.  "These  ships,"  says  Herodotus, f 

*  In  the  year  479  B.  C.  f  Herod,  ix.  28. 

t  Herod,  v.  97. 


148  CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 

"  were  the  origin  of  the  wars  between  the  Hellenes 
and  the  barbarians."  This  interference  was  deeply 
resented  by  the  Persians  ;  and  their  resentment  would 
have  been  reasonable,  if  they  had  possessed  the 
right  of  reducing  free  cities  to  a  state  of  depen- 
dence. Herodotus  has  given  a  copious  narration  of 
the  ill  success  of  the  revolt,  and  of  the  manner,  in 
which  Miletus  suffered  for  it.  Even  in  the  subsequent 
expeditions  of  the  Persians  against  Europe,  the  ruling 
idea  was  the  desire  of  taking  revenge  on  Athens  ;  and 
when  Xerxes  reduced  that  city  to  ashes,  he  may  have 
found  in  it  no  small  degree  of  satisfaction.*  But 
when  the  victory  remained  in  the  hands  of  the  Greeks, 
they  continued  with  spirit  a  war,  which  for  them  was 
no  longer  a  dangerous  one  ;  and  if  the  emancipation 
of  their  countrymen  became  from  that  time  nothing 
more  than  an  ostensible  reason,f  it  was  still  a  proof 
of  the  reviving  national  spirit.  When  the  war  after 
fifty-one  years  was  terminated  by  the  first  peace  with 
the  Persians,^  it  was  done  under  the  conditions,  that 
the  Grecian  cities  in  Asia  should  be  free  ;  that  the 
troops  of  the  Persians  should  keep  two  days'  march 
distant  from  them ;  and  that  their  squadron  should 
leave  the  jEgean  sea.$  In  a  similar  manner,  after  a 
long  and  similar  contest,  emancipated  Holland,  in  a 
more  recent  age,  prescribed  the  conditions  of  peace 
to  the  ruler  of  both  the  Indies,  and  blockaded  the 

*  Herod,  viii.  64. 

fThe  Asiatic  Greeks,  however,  during  the  expedition  of  Xerxes,  in  which 
they  were  compelled  to  take  a  part  with  their  ships,  had  entreated  the 
Spartans  and  Athenians  to  free  them. 

t  In  the  year  449  B.  C. 

§  Plutarch  in  Cimon.Op.  iii.  p.  202,  quotes  the  decree  of  the  people,  con- 
raining  the  conditions. 


THE  PERSIAN  WARS  AND  THEIR  CONSEQUENCES.    149 

months  of  his  rivers,  while  it  preserved  the  ocean 
open  to  itself. 

Thus  the  people  of  Hellas,  by  means  of  this  war, 
appeared  among  the  nations  in  the  splendor  of 
victory.  They  were  now  permitted  to  look  around 
in  tranquil  security;  for  who  would  venture  to 
attack  them  ?  The  eastern  world  obeyed  the  hum- 
bled Persian ;  in  the  North,  the  kingdom  of  Macedo- 
nia had  not  yet  begun  its  career  of  conquest ;  and 
Italy,  still  divided  into  small  states,  did  not  as  yet 
contain  a  victorious  republic.  The  period  was 
therefore  come,  in  which  Greece  could  unfold  all  its 
youthful  vigour ;  poetry  and  the  fine  arts  put  forth 
their  blossoms ;  the  philosophic  mind  contemplate 
itself  in  tranquillity  ;  and  in  public  spirit,  the  sev- 
eral cities  vie  with  each  other  in  generous  compe- 
tition. A  nation  does  not  need  peace  and  tranquil- 
lity, to  become  great ;  but  it  needs  the  consciousness 
that  it  is  possessed  of  strength,  to  gain  peace  and 
tranquillity. 

The  Persian  wars  gave  a  character,  not  only  to  the 
relations  of  Greece  with  foreign  countries,  but  also 
to  its  internal  condition ;  and  were  of  hardly  less 
importance  to  the  nation  by  means  of  the  latter,  than 
of  the  former.  During  that  contestj  the  idea  of 
a  supremacy,  or  ^•ytfMvicty  as  the  Greeks  termed  it, 
entrusted  to  one  state  over  the  rest,  or  usurped  by 
that  state,  became  current  throughout  Greece. 

Even  before  the  Persian  war,  the  idea  had  been 
faintly  expressed  ;  Sparta  had  always,  as  the  strong- 
est of  the  Dorian  tribes,  claimed  a  sort  of  supremacy 
over  the  Peloponnesus ;  and  had  in  some  measure 


150  CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 

deserved  it,  by  banishing  the  tyrants  from  the  cities  of 
that  peninsula.* 

In  the  common  opposition,  made  by  so  many  of 
the  Grecian  cities,  to  the  attack  of  Xerxes,  the  want 
of  a  general  leader  was  felt ;  but  according  to  the 
Grecian  rules,  this  command  could  not  so  well  be 
committed  to  one  man,  as  to  one  stdte.  We  have 
already  observed,  that  several  laid  claims  to  it ;  those 
of  Syracuse  were  at  once  rejected  ;  and  Athens  was 
at  once  prudent  and  generous  enough  to  yield.  At 
that  time,  therefore,  the  honour  was  nominally  con- 
ferred on  Sparta ;  it  was  actually  possessed  by  the 
state,  of  which  the  talents  merited  it ;  and  Sparta 
had  no  Themistocles.  But  Athens  soon  gained  it  nom- 
inally also ;  when  the  haughtiness  of  Pausanias  had 
exasperated  the  confederates;  and  Sparta  was  de- 
prived by  his  fall  of  the  only  man,  who  in  those  days 
could  have  reflected  any  lustre  upon  the  state,  f 

*Thucyd.  i.  18.76. 

f  Of  this 'we  have  accurate  accounts  in  Thticydides,  i.  95.  The  Spartans, 
Athenians,  and  many  of  the  confederates,  had  undertaken  a  naval  expedition 
egainst  Cyprus  and  Byzantium,  470  years  before  Christ.  Offended  with 
Fausanias  (who  about  this  time  was  recalled  by  Sparta  herself),  the  allies, 
especially  the  lonians,  entreated  the  Athenians,  as  being  of  a  kindred  tribe, 
to  assume  the  supreme  command.  Those  who  were  of  the  Peloponnesus, 
took  no  part  in  this  act.  The  Athenians  were  very  willing  to  comply  with 
the  request ;  and  the  confederates  never  received  another  Spartan  general. 
From  this  account,  the  following  points  are  to  be  inferred  :  1.  The  Atheni- 
ans obtained  the  same  chief  command,  which  had  been  exercised  by  the 
Spartans.  2.  The  states  which  conferred  that  command  on  Athens,  must 
have  been  islands  and  maritime  towns,  as  the  whole  expedition  was  a  naval 
one.  3.  Although  not  all  who  shared  in  it,  were  lonians,  yet  the  relationship 
of  tribes  Iiad  a  great  influence  on  the  choice.  4.  The  command  conferred  on 
the  Athenians,  embraced  therefore  by  no  means  all  the  Grecian  cities,  nor 
even  all,  which  had  been  united  against  Persia;  as  the  Peloponnesians 
expressly  withdrew  from  it,  and  the  other  states  of  the  interior  took  no  part 
in  the  matter. 


THE  PERSIAN  WARS  AND  THEIR  CONSEQUENCES.    151 

In  this  manner,  Athens  was  placed  at  the  head 
of  a  large  part  of  Greece,  confederated  against  Persia; 
and  from  this  moment  its  supremacy  begins  to  have 
a  practical  importance  for  Greece.  The  circumstan- 
ces under  which  this  chief  command  was  conferred  on 
Athens,  showed  that  nothing  more  was  intended  to 
be  given,  than  the  conduct  of  the  war  that  was  still 
to  be  continued  with  united  efforts  against  the  Per- 
sians. No  government  of  the  allied  states,  no  inter- 
ference in  their  internal  affairs,  was  intended.  But 
how  much  was  included  in  the  conduct  of  a  war 
against  a  very  powerful  enemy  from  the  very  nature 
of  the  office ;  and  how  much  more  for  them  who 
knew  how  to  profit  by  it.  As  long  as  the  war  against 
the  Persian  king  was  continued,  could  it  be  much  less 
than  the  control  of  all  external  affairs  ?  For  in  a 
period  like  that,  what  other  relations  could  have  em- 
ployed the  practical  politics  of  the  Greeks.  Or  if 
any  others  existed,  were  they  not  at  least  intimately 
connected  with  that  war?  And  as  for  the  grand 
questions  respecting  the  duration  of  the  war  and  the 
conditions  of  peace,  did  they  not  depend  on  those 
who  stood  at  the  head  of  the  undertaking? 

The  first  use  which  Athens  made  of  this  superior 
command,  was  the  establishment  of  a  general  treas- 
ury, as  well  as  a  common  fleet,  for  the  carrying  on  of 
the  war ;  while  it  was  fixed,  which  of  the  allies  should 
contribute  money  and  ships,  and  in  what  proportion. 
The  Athenians,  says  Thucydides,*  now  first  estab- 
lished the  office  of  treasurers^  of  Greece  ;  who  were 
to  collect  the  tribute,  as  the  sums  which  were  raised., 

* Thucyd.  i.  96  f  ' 


152  CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 

were  denominated  (and  names  are  not  matters  of 
indifference  in  politics  );  the  amount  of  which  was 
then  fixed  at  four  hundred  and  sixty  talents.*  Yet  to 
avoid  every  thing  which  could  seem  odious,  the  treas- 
urer was  not  directly  fixed  at  Athens,  but  at  Delos, 
in  the  temple  of  Apollo  ;  where  the  assemblies  also 
were  held.  But  the  most  important  circumstance  was, 
that  the  most  just  of  the  Grecians,  Aristides,  was 
appointed  treasurer ;  and  the  office  of  assigning  to 
each  state  its  proportion  of  the  general  contribution, 
was  entrusted  to  him.f  No  one  in  those  days  made 
any  complaint ;  and  Aristides  died  as  poor  as  he  had 
lived. 

Two  remarks  are  here  so  naturally  suggested, 
that  they  hardly  need  any  proof;  the  first  is,  that 
Athens,  by  means  of  this  regulation,  laid  the  founda- 
tion of  its  greatness ;  the  second  is,  that  hardly  any 
government,  and  how  much  less  a  popular  government, 
could  long  withstand  the  temptation  to  abuse  this 
power.  But  a  third  remark  must  be  made  in  connex- 
ion with  the  preceding  observation ;  Athens  gained 
the  importance  which  she  had  for  the  woilcl,  by 
means  of  her  supremacy  over  the  other  sta,*^.  -  It  was 
that,  which  made  her  conspicuous  in  thy  history  of 
mankind.  Tile  importance  which  she^ai  ied,  was 
immediately  of  a  political  nature  ;  hi  \  every  thing  of 
a  vast  and  noble  character,  for  wh  ?h  Athens  was 
distinguished,  was  inseparably  connected  with  her 
political  greatness.  We  will  disguise  no  one  of  the 
abuses,  of  which  the  consequences  were  finally  most 
fatal  to  Athens  herself ;  but  we  cannot  limit  our  view 

*  Full  $350,000.  t  Plutarch.  Aristid.  Op.  ii.  p.  535. 


THE  PERSIAN  WARS  AND  THEIR  CONSEQUENCES.    158 

to  the  narrow  range  adopted  by  those,  who  make  the 
abuses  the  criterion  of  their  judgment. 

The  allies,  by  committing  the  conduct  of  the  war 
to  Athens,  expressly  acknowledged  that  city  to  be 
the  first  in  Greece,  and  this  was  silently  acknowledg- 
ed by  the  other  states  ;  for  Sparta,  which  alone  was 
able  to  rival  it  in  strength,  voluntarily  withdrew  into 
the  background.*  Athens  had  the  consciousness  of 
deserving  this  rank  ;  for  the  freedom  of  Greece  had 
had  its  origin  there.  But  it  was  desirous  of  preserving 
its  high  station,  not  by  force  alone  ;  but  by  showing  it- 
self to  be  the  first  in  every  thing,  which  according  to 
the  views  of  the  Greeks  could  render  a  city  illustrious. 
Its  temples  were  now  to  be  the  most  splendid ;  its  works 
of  art  the  noblest,  its  festivals  and  its  theatres  the 
most  beautiful  and  the  most  costly.  But  for  the  suprem- 
acy of  Athens,  Pericles  never  could  have  found  there 
a  sphere  of  action  worthy  of  himself;  no  Phidias,  no 
Polygnotus,  no  Sophocles  could  have  flourished. 
For  the  public  spirit  of  the  Athenian  proceeded  from 
the  consciousness,  that  he  was  the  first  among  the 
G'reciJ'*  5  and  nothing  but  that  public  spirit  could 
have  r-  ««?ed  and  rewarded  the  genius,  which  was 
capable  r  educing  such  works  as  theirs.  Perhaps 
their  very  ness  prepared  the  fall  of  Athens  ;  but 

if  they  were  doo.oed  to  suffer  for  it,  the  gratitude  due 
to  them  f,,om  ma'akind,  is  not  on  that  account  dimin- 
ished. 

The  supremacy  of  Athens  was,  as  the  nature  of 
the  whole  confederation  makes  apparent,  immediately 
connected  with  its  naval  superiority ;  for  the  allied 
states  were  all  islands  or  maritime  cities.  Thus  the 

*  Thucyd.  i.  95. 

20 


154  CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 


expressions  of  supreme  command  (riysfioviot)  and  do- 
minion of  the  sea,*  that  is,  the  dominion  of  the  ^Sge- 
an  and  Ionian  seas  (for  the  ambition  of  the  Athenians 
extended  no  farther),  came  to  signify  the  same  thing. 
This  dominion  of  the  sea  was  therefore,  in  its  origin, 
not  only  not  blameahle,  but  absolutely  essential  to  the 
attainment  of  the  object  proposed.  The  security  of 
the  Greeks  against  the  attacks  of  the  Persians  de- 
pended on  it  ;  and  so  too  did  the  continuance  of  the 
confederacy.  We  cannot  acquit  Athens  of  the  charge 
of  having  afterwards  abused  her  naval  superiority  j 
but  he,  who  considers  the  nature  of  such  alliances  and 
the  difficulty  of  holding  them  together,  will  concede, 
that  in  practice  it  would  be  almost  impossible  to  avoid 
the  appearance  of  abusing  such  a  supremacy  ;  since 
the  same  things,  which  to  one  party  seem  an  abuse, 
in  the  eyes  of  the  other,  are  only  the  necessary  means 
to  secure  the  end. 

When  the  sea  was  made  secure,  and  no  attack  was 
farther  to  be  feared  from  the  Persians,  —  how  could  it 
be  otherwise,  than  that  the  continuance  of  the  war,  and 
consequently  the  contributions  made  for  that  purpose, 
should  be  to  many  of  them  unnecessarily  oppressive  ? 
And  how  could  it  be  avoided,  that  some  should  feel 
themselves  injured,  or  be  actually  injured  in  the  con- 
tributions exacted  of  them.  The  consequences  of  all 
this  were,  on  the  one  side  a  refusal  to  pay  the  contri- 
butions, and  on  the  other,  severity  in  collecting 
them  ;t  and  as  they  continued  to  be  refused,  this  was 


t  "  The  Athenians,"  says  Thucydides  i.  99,  "  exacted  the  contributions 
with  severity  ;  and  were  the  more  oppressive  to  the  allies,  as  these  were 
unaccustomed  to  oppression."  But  if  the  Athenians  had  not  insisted  on 
the  payment  of  them  with  severity,  how  soon  would  the  whole  confederacy 
have  fallen  into  ruin. 


THE  PERSIAN  WARS  AND  THEIR  CONSEQUENCES.    155 

considered  as  a  revolt,  and  wars  followed  with  sev- 
eral of  the  allies  ;  at  first  with  the  island  Naxos  ;* 
then  with  Thasus,f  with  Samos^J  and  others. $  But 
those  who  had  been  overcome,  were  no  longer  treated 
as  allies,  but  as  subjects;  and  thus  the  relation  of 
Athens  to  the  several  states  was  different ;  for  a 
distinction  was  made  between  the  voluntary  confede- 
rates and  the  subjects. ||  The  latter  were  obliged  to 
pay  in  money  an  equivalent  for  the  ships,  which 
they  were  bound  to  furnish  ;  for  Athens  found  it  more 
advantageous  to  have  its  ships  built  in  this  manner, 
at  its  own  charge.  But  the  matter  did  not  rest  here. 
The  sum  of  the  yearly  tribute,  fixed  under  Pericles 
at  four  hundred  and  sixty  talents,  was  raised  by  Al- 
cibiadesIT  to  six  hundred.  When,  during  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian  war,  Athens  suffered  from  the  want  of  money, 
the  tribute  was  changed  into  duties  of  five  per  centum 
on  the  value  of  all  imported  articles,  collected  by  the 
Athenians  in  the  harbours  of  the  allies.**  But  the 
most  oppressive  of  all,  was  perhaps  the  judiciary 

*  Thucyd.  i.  98.  t  Thucyd.  i.  100.  101.  t  Thucyd.  i.  1 16. 

§  The  difference  of  the  allies,  and  also  the  view  taken  by  the  Athenians 
of  their  supremacy,  and  of  the  oppression,  with  which  they  were  charged, 
are  no  where  more  clearly  developed,  than  in  the  speech  of  the  Athenian 
ambassador  in  Camarina.  Thucyd.  vi.  83,  etc.  "  The  Chians,"  says  he, 
"  and  Methymnaeans  (in  Lesbos)  need  only  furnish  ships.  From  most  of  the 
others,  we  exact  the  tribute  with  severity.  Others,  though  inhabitants  of 
islands,  and  easy  to  be  taken,  are  yet  entirely  voluntary  allies,  on  account 
of  the  sit'iatiori  of  their  islands  round  the  Pelo|>onnesu-." 

||  The  a.uTnoft.ii  and  the  UVYIKOOI,  both  of  whom  were  still  bound  to  pay  the  taxes, 
(ivraTi>u7s)  Mr.  Manso,  in  his  acute  illustration  of  the  Hegtmonia,  Sparta  B.  iii. 
Beylage  12.  13.  distinguishes  three  classes;  those  who  contributed  ships,  but  no 
money ;  those  who  contributed  nothing  but  money  ;  and  those  who  were  at  once  sub- 
ject and  tributary.  The  nature  of  things  seems  to  require,  that  it  should  have  been 
so ;  yet  Thucydides  vi.  69.  makes  no  difference  between  the  two  last. 

IT  Plutarch.     Op.  ii.  p.  r,y.v  **  Thucyd.  vii.  28. 


156  CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 

power,  which  Athens  usurped  over  the  allies  ;  not 
merely  in  the  differences,  which  arose  between  the 
states,  but  also  in  private  suits.*  Individuals  were 
obliged  to  go  to  Athens  to  transact  their  business,  and 
in  consequence,  to  the  great  advantage  of  the  Athe- 
nian householders,  innkeepers,  and  the  like,  a  multi- 
tude of  foreigners  were  constantly  in  that  city,  in 
order  to  bring  their  affairs  to  an  issue. 

.It  is  therefore  obvious,  that  the  nature  of  the 
Athenian  supremacy  was  changed.  It  had  been  at 
first  a  voluntary  association,  and  now  it  had  become, 
for  far  the  larger  number  of  the  states  that  shared  in 
it,  a  forced  one.  That  several  of  the  confederates 
were  continually  striving  to  break  free  from  the 
alliance,  has  been  shown  by  the  examples  cited 
above  ;  but  it  is  easy  to  perceive,  how  difficult,  or 
rather  how  impossible  it  was,  to  effect  a  general  union 
between  them  against  Athens.  If  they  had  been  desirous 
of  attempting  it,  how  great  were  the  means  possessed 
by  Athens,  of  anticipating  them.  Yet  there  was  one 
moment,  when,  but  for  their  almost  inconceivable  want 
of  forethought,  an  attempt  might  have  justly  been 
expected  from  them  ;  and  that  period  was  the  close 
of  the  war  with  Persia. f  The  Greeks  framed  their 
articles  in  the  treaty  of  peace  ;  and  had  nothing  farther 
to  fear  from  the  Persians.  The  whole  object  of  the  con- 
federacy was  therefore  at  an  end.  And  yet  we  do  not 
hear  that  any  voices  were  then  raised  against  Athens. 
On  the  other  side,  it  may  with  propriety  be  asked,  if 
justice  did  not  require  of  the  Athenians,  to  volun- 
tarily restore  to  the  allies  their  liberty.  But  this 

'  See,  upon  this  subject,  Xenopb.  de  Rep.  Athen.  Op.  €94.  ed.  Leunclav. 
t  In  the  year  449  befo.e  Christ. 


THE  PERSIAN  WARS  AND  THEIR  CONSEQUENCES.    157 

question  will  hardly  be  put  by  a  practical  states- 
man. To  free  the  allies  from  their  subordination 
would  have  been  to  deprive  Athens  of  its  splendor ; 
to  dry  up  a  chief  source  of  the  revenues  of  the 
republic ;  perhaps  to  pave  the  way  to  its  ruin. 
What  Athenian  statesman  would  have  dared  to  make 
such  a  proposition.  Had  he  made  it,  could  he  have 
carried  it  through?  Would  he  not  rather  have 
ensured  his  own  downfall  ?  There  are  examples 
where  single  rulers,  weary  of  power,  have  freely 
resigned  it ;  but  a  people  never  yet  voluntarily  gave 
up  authority  over  subject  nations. 

Perhaps  these  remarks  may  contribute  to  rectify 
the  judgments  of  Isocrates,*  in  his  celebrated  accusa- 
tion of  the  dominion  of  the  sea  ;f  which  he  consider- 
ed as  the  source  of  all  the  misery  of  Athens  and  of 
Greece.  The  views  which  he  entertained  were  cer- 
tainly just;  but  the  evils  proceeded  from  the  abuses; 
and  it  were  just  as  easy  to  show,  that  his  celebrated 
Athens,  but  for  that  dominion,  never  would  have 
afforded  him  a  subject  for  his  panegyrics. 

But  how  those  evils  could  result  from  that  abuse  ; 
how  they  prepared  the  downfall  of  Athens,  when 
Sparta  appeared  as  the  deliverer  of  Greece  ;  how  the 
rule  of  these  deliverers,  much  worse  than  that  of  the 
first  oppressors,  inflicted  on  Greece  wounds,  which 

*  We  shall  be  obliged  to  recur  frequently  to  Isocrates.  It  is  impossible  to 
r?ad  the  venerable  orator,  who  was  filled  with  the  purest  patriotism  which  a 
Grecian  could  feel,  without  respecting  and  loving  him.  But  he  was  a  politi- 
cal wetter,  without  being  a  practical  statesman  ;  and,  like  St.  Pierre  and 
other  excellent  men  of  the  same  class,  he  believed  much  to  be  possible 
which  was  not  so.  The  historian  must  consult  him  with  deliberation.  This 
panegyrist  of  antiquity  often  regarded  it  in  too  advantageous  a  light,  and  is, 
besides,  little  concerned  about  the  accuracy  of  his  historical  delineations. 

t  Isocrat.  Op.  p.  172.  ed.  Steph. 


158  CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 

were  not  only  deep,  but  incurable ;  in  general, 
the  causes  which  produced  the  ruin  of  that  country, 
remain  to  furnish  a  subject  for  investigation  in  one  of 
the  later  chapters,  to  which  we  must  make  our  way 
through  some  previous  researches. 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE  GRECIAN  STATES.       159 


CHAPTER  NINTH. 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE  GRECIAN  STATES. 

IN  the  present  chapter,  we  do  not  undertake  to 
give  an  outline  of  the  several  Grecian  states ;  but 
rather  to  delineate  the  general  characteristics  of  the 
Grecian  forms  of  government.  Such  a  general  inves- 
tigation seems  the  more  essential,  as  it  would  obvious- 
ly be  impossible  to  analyze  each  one  of  them. 

With  respect  to  a  nation,  in  which  every  thing 
that  could  be  done  in  public,  was  public  ;  where  every 
thing  great  and  glorious  was  especially  the  result  of 
this  public  life  ;  where  even  private  life  was  identified 
with  that  of  the  public  ;  where  the  individual  did  but 
live  with,  and  for  the  state,  this  investigation  must  have 
a  much  higher  degree  of  interest,  than  if  it  related  to 
any  other,  in  which  the  line  of  division  is  distinctly 
drawn  between  public  and  private  life.  He  who  will 
judge  of  the  Grecians,  must  be  acquainted  with  the 
constitutions  of  their  states  ;  and  he  must  not  only 
consider  the  inanimate  forms,  as  they  are  taught  us 
by  the  learned  compilers  and  writers  on  what  are 
called  Grecian  Antiquities  ;  but  regard  them  as  they 
were  regarded  by  the  Greeks  themselves. 

If  the  remark,  which  we  made  above,*  that  the 
Grecian  states,  with  few  exceptions,  were  cities  with 
their  districts,  and  their  constitutions,  therefore,  the 
constitutions  of  cities ;  if  this  remark  needed  to  be 

*  In  the  fifth  chapter. 


160  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

farther  confirmed,  it  could  be  done  by  referring  to  the 
fact,  that  the  Greeks  designate  the  ideas  of  state 
and  of  city  by  the  same  word.*  We  must  therefore 
always  bear  in  mind  the  idea  of  city  constitutions, 
and  never  forget  that  those  of  which  we  are  treating, 
not  only  had  nothing  in  common  with  those  of  the 
large  empires  of  modern  times,  but  not  even  with  those 
of  the  smaller  principalities.  If  for  the  sake  of  giving 
a  distinct  representation,  we  were  to  compare  them 
with  any  thing  in  modern  history,  we  could  best  compare 
them,  as  the  character  of  the  Italian  cities  of  the  middle 
age  is  hardly  more  familiar  than  that  of  the  Grecian, 
with  the  imperial  towns  in  Germany,  especially  in  the 
days  of  their  prosperity,  previous  to  the  thirty  years7 
war,  before  they  were  limited  in  the  freedom  of  their 
movements  by  the  vicinity  of  more  powerful  mon- 
archical states ;  were  it  not  that  the  influence  of  the 
difference  of  religion  created  a  dissimilarity. 

And  yet  this  comparison  may  throw  some  light  on 
the  great  variety,  which  is  observed  in  those  states, 
in  spite  of  the  apparent  uniformity  which  existed 
among  the  Grecian  states  (as  all  were  necessarily 
similar  in  some  respects),  and  which  equally  existed 
in  those  German  cities.  And  the  comparison  will  be 
still  more  justified,  if  we  add,  that  the  extent  of  ter- 
ritory was  as  different  among  the  Grecian  cities,  and 
yet  on  the  whole  was  nearly  the  same.  There  were 
few,  which  possessed  a  larger  territory,  than  formerly 
belonged  to  Ulm  and  Nuremberg;  but  in  Greece  as 
in  Germany,  the  prosperity  of  the  city  did  not  depend 

•  Tlo>.i;,  cirilas.  Respecting  the  meaning  of  Wx/j,  and  the  difference  be- 
tween -r'o\,s  and  M»«,  state,  and  nation,  consult  Aristot.  Polit.  Op.  ii.  p.  23-3. 
ed.  Casaub. 


CONSTITUTIONS  OT  THE  GRECIAN  CITIES.        161 

on  the  extent  of  its  territory.  Corinth  hardly  pos- 
sessed a  larger  district  than  that  of  Augsburg ;  and 
yet  both  rose  to  an  eminent  degree  of  opulence  and 
culture. 

But  great  as  this  variety  in  the  constitutions  may 
have  been  (and  we  shall  illustrate  this  subject?  more 
fully  hereafter),  they  all  coincided  in  one  grand 
point.  They  all  were  free  constitutions ;  that  is, 
they  allowed  of  no  rulers,  whom  the  people  as  a  body, 
or  certain  classes  of  the  people,  could  not  call  to 
account  ;*  he,  who  usurped  such  authority,  was,  in 
the  language  of  the  Greeks,  a  tyrant.  In  this  the 
idea  is  contained,  that  the  state  shall  govern  itself; 
and  not  be  governed  by  an  individual;  and  of  course 
a  very  different  view  of  the  state  was  taken  from  the 
modern  European  notion.  The  view  of  the  Greeks 
was  entirely  opposed  to  that  of  those  modern  politi- 
cians, who  conceive  of  the  state  as  a  mere  machine ; 
and  of  those  also,  who  would  make  of  it  nothing  but  an 
institution  of  police.  The  Greeks  regarded  the  state, 
no  less  than  each  individual,  as  a  moral  person. 
Moral  powers  have  influence  in  it,  and  decide  its 
plans  of  operation.  Hence  it  becomes  the  great  object 
of  him  who  would  manage  a  state,  to  secure  to  reason 
the  superiority  over  passion  and  desire ;  and  the 
attainment  of  virtue  and  morality,  is  in  this  sense  an 
object  of  the  state,  just  as  it  should  be  of  the  indi- 
vidual. 

If  with  these  previous  reflections  we  proceed  to 
investigate  the  laws  of  the  Greeks,  they  will  present 
themselves  to  our  view  in  their  true  light.  The 

*Aristot.  Polit.  Op.  ii.  p.  251,  282.    The  magistrates  must  be  responsible 
for  their  administration,  vnMuiei.  as  the  Greeks  expressed  it. 

21 


162  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

constitutions  of  their  cities,  like  those  of  the  moderns, 
were  framed  by  necessity,  and  developed  by  circum- 
stances. But  as  abuses  are  much  sooner  felt  in  small 
states  and  towns,  than  in  large  ones,  the  necessity 
of  reforms  was  early  felt  in  many  of  them  ;  and  this 
necessity  occasioned  lawgivers  to  make  their  appear- 
ance, much  before  the  spirit  of  speculation  had  been 
occupied  on  the  subject  of  politics.  The  objects 
therefore  of  those  lawgivers,  were  altogether  practi- 
cal ;  and,  without  the  knowledge  of  any  philosophical 
system,  they  endeavoured  to  accomplish  them  by 
means  of  reflection  and  experience.  A  commonwealth 
could  never  have  been  conceived  of  by  them,  except  as 
governing  itself;  and  on  this  foundation  they  rested 
their  codes.  It  never  occurred  to  them,  to  look  for 
the  means  of  that  self-government,  to  nothing  but  the 
forms  of  government ;  and  although  those  forms  were 
not  left  unnoticed  in  their  codes,  yet  they  were  noticed 
only  to  a  certain  degree.  No  Grecian  lawgiver  ever 
thought  of  abolishing  entirely  the  ancient  usage,  and 
becoming,  according  to  the  phrase  now  in  vogue,  the 
framers  of  a  new  constitution.  In  giving  laws,  they 
only  reformed.  Lycurgus,  Solon,  and  the  rest,  so  far 
from  abolishing  what  usage  had  established,  endeav- 
oured to  preserve  every  thing  which  could  be  pre- 
served ;  and  only  added,  in  part,  several  new  institu- 
tions, and  in  part  made  for  the  existing  ones  better 
regulations.  If  we  possessed  therefore  the  whole  of 
the  laws  of  Solon,  we  should  by  no  means  find  them 
to  contain  a  perfect  constitution.  But  to  compensate 
for  that,  they  embraced,  not  only  the  rights  of  indi- 
viduals, but  also  morals,  in  a  much  higher  degree, 
than  the  latter  can  be  embraced  in  the  view  of  any 


CONSTITUTIONS  OP  THE  GRECIAN  CITIES.         163 

modern  lawgiver.  The  organization  of  private  life, 
and  hence  the  education  of  youth,*  on  which  the 
prevalence  and  continuance  of  good  morals  depend, 
formed  one  of  their  leading  objects.  They  were  deep- 
ly convinced,  that  that  moral  person,  the  state,  would 
otherwise  be  incapable  of  governing  itself.  To  this 
it  must  be  added,  that  in  these  small  commonwealths, 
in  these  towns  with  their  territories,  many  regula- 
tions could  be  made  and  executed,  which  could  not 
be  put  into  operation  in  a  powerful  and  widely 
extended  nation.  Whether  these  regulations  were 
always  good,  and  always  well  adapted  to  their 
purpose,  is  quite  another  question  ;  it  is  our  duty  at 
present  to  show,  from  what  point  of  view  those  law- 
givers were  accustomed  to  regard  the  art  of  regulating 
the  state,  and  the  means  of  preserving  and  directing 
it.f 

Whenever  a  commonwealth  or  city  governs  itself, 
it  is  a  fundamental  idea,  that  the  supreme  power 
resides  with  its  members,  with  the  citizens.  But  it 
may  rest  with  the  citizens  collectively,  or  only  with 
certain  classes,  or  perhaps  only  with  certain  families. 
Thus  there  naturally  arose  among  the  Greeks  that 
difference,  which  they  designated  by  the  names  of 
Aristocracies  and  Democracies ;  and  to  one  of  these 
two  classes,  they  referred  all  their  constitutions. 
But  it  is  not  easy  to  draw  a  distinct  line  between  the 
two.  WThen  we  are  speaking  of  the  meaning  which 
they  bore  in  practical  politics,  we  must  beware  of 
taking  them  in  that  signification,  which  was  after- 
wards given  them  by  the  speculative  politicians,  by 

*  Aristot.  Polit.  Op.  ii.  p.  301,  336. 

tThis  taken  together,  forms  what  the  Greeks  called  political  science  — 


164  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

Aristotle*  and  others.  In  their  practical  politics,  the 
Greeks  no  doubt  connected  certain  ideas  with  those 
denominations  ;  but  the  ideas  were  not  very  distinctly 
defined  ;  and  the  surest  way  of  erring  would  be,  to 
desire  to  define  them  more  accurately  than  was  done 
by  the  Greeks  themselves.  The  fundamental  idea  of 
democracy  was,  that  all  citizens,  as  such,  should 
enjoy  equal  rights  in  the  administration  of  the  state; 
and  yet  a  perfect  equality  existed  in  very  few  of  the 
cities.  This  equality  was  commonly  limited  to  a  par- 
ticipation in  the  popular  assemblies  and  the  courts. f 
A  government  did  not  cease  to  be  a  democracy,  though 
the  poorer  class  were  entirely  excluded  from  all  ma- 
gistracies, and  their  votes  of  less  weight  in  the  popular 
assemblies.  On  the  other  hand,  an  aristocracy  always 
presupposed  exclusive  privileges  of  individual  classes 
or  families.  But  these  were  very  different  and  vari- 
ous. There  were  hereditary  aristocracies,  where,  as 
in  Sparta,  the  highest  dignities  continued  in  a  few 
families.  But  this  was  seldom  the  case.  It  was 
commonly  the  richer  and  more  distinguished  class, 
which  obtained  the  sole  administration  of  the  state  ; 
and  it  was  either  wealth,  or  birth,  or  both  together, 
that  decided.^  But  wealth  consisted  not  so  much 
in  money,  as  in  land  ;  and  it  was  estimated  by  real 
estate.  This  wealth  was  chiefly  exhibited,  in  ancient 
times,  in  the  sums  expended  on  horses.  Those  whose 

*lf  here,  in  investigating  the  practical  meaning  of  those  words,  we  can 
make  no  use  of  the  theoretical  definitions  of  Aristotle  in  his  Politics,  we 
would  not  by  nny  means  give  up  the  right  of  citing  him  as  of  authority  in 
the  hislory  of  the  Greek  constitutions,  in  so  far  as  he  himself  speaks  of  them. 
And  whose  testimony  on  these  subjects  deserves  more  weight  than  that  of 
the  man,  who,  in  a  work  which  has  unfortunately  been  lost,  described  and 
analyzed  all  the  known  forms  of  government  of  his  time,  two  hundred  and 
fifty-five  in  number. 

f  Aristot.  Polit.  iii.  I  t  Aristot.  Polit.  iv.  6. 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE  GRECIAN  CITIES.         165 

means  were  sufficient,  constituted  the  cavalry  of  the 
citizens  ;  and  these  formed  the  richer  part  of  the 
soldiery,  which  consisted  only  of  citizens  or  militia. 
It  is  therefore  easy  to  understand,  how  it  was  possible 
that  the  circumstance,  whether  the  district  of  a  city 
possessed  much  pasture  land,  could  have  had  so  much 
influence,  in  practical  politics,  on  the  formation  of  the 
constitution.*  It  was  therefore  these  nobles,  the 
Eupatridse  and  Optimates,  who,  though  they  did  not 
wholly  exclude  the  people  from  a  shape  in  the  legisla- 
tion, endeavoured  to  secure  to  themselves  the  magis- 
tracies, and  the  seats  in  the  courts  of  justice;  and 
wherever  this  was  the  case,  there  was  what  the  Greeks 
termed  an  aristocracy.f 

In  cities,  where  wealth  is  for  the  most  part  meas- 
ured by  possessions  in  lands,  it  is  almost  unavoidable 
that  not  only  a  class  of  great  proprietors  should  rise 
up ;  but  that  this  inequality  should  constantly  increase ; 
and  landed  estates  come  finally  into  the  hands  of  a 
few  families.!  In  an  age,  when  there  were  much 
fewer  mechanic  professions,  and  when  those  few  were 
carried  on  chiefly  by  slaves,  the  consequences  of  this 
inequality  were  much  more  oppressive ;  and  it  was 
therefore  one  of  the  chief  objects  of  the  lawgivers, 
either  to  prevent  this  evil,  or,  where  it  already  exist- 
ed, to  remedy  it ;  as  otherwise  a  revolution  of  the 
state  would  sooner  or  later  have  inevitably  followed. 

*  Aristotle  cites  examples  of  it  in  Eretria,  Chalcis,  and  other  cities. 
Polit.  iv.  3. 

t  Oligarchy  was  distinguished  from  this.  But  though  bolh  words  were  in 
use,  no  other  line  can  be  drawn  between  them,  than  the  greater  or  smaller 
number  of  Optimates,  who  had  the  government  in  their  hands.  That  this 
remark  is  a  true  one  appears  from  the  definitions,  to  which  Aristotle,  Polit. 
Hi.  7,  is  obliged  to  have  recourse,  in  order  to  divide  them  from  one  another. 

$  This  was  the  rase  in  Thurii,  Aristot.  Polit.  v.  7 


166  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

In  this  manner  we  may  understand  why  a  new  and 
equal  division  of  the  land  among  the  citizens  was 
made  ;*  why  the  acquisition  of  lands  by  purchase 
or  gift  was  forbidden,  and  only  permitted  in  the 
way  of  inheritance  and  of  marriage  :f  why  a  limit 
was  fixed  to  the  amount  of  land,  which  a  single  citi- 
zen could  possess.:}:  But  with  all  these  and  other 
similar  precautions,  it  was  not  possible  to  hinder 
entirely  the  evil,  against  which  they  were  intended 
to  guard ;  and  hence  were  prepared  the  causes  of 
those  numerous  and  violent  commotions,  to  which  all 
the  Grecian  states  were  more  or  less  exposed. 

In  the  constitutions  of  cities,  however  they  may 
be  formed,  the  right  of  citizenship  is  the  first  and 
most  important.  He  who  does  not  possess  it,  may 
perhaps  live  in  the  city  under  certain  conditions,  and 
enjoy  the  protection  of  its  Iaws:$  but  he  is  not, 
properly  speaking,  a  member  of  the  state  :  and  can 
enjoy  neither  the  same  rights,  nor  the  same  respect, 
as  the  citizen.  The  regulations,  therefore,  respect- 
ing sharing  in  the  right  of  citizenship,  were  necessa- 
rily strict ;  but  they  were  very  different  in  the  several 
Grecian  cities.  In  some,  the  full  privileges  of  citi- 
zenship were  secured,  if  both  the  parents  had  been 
citizens  ;||  in  others,  it  was  necessary  to  trace  such  a 
descent  through  two  or  three  generations  ;1f  whilst  in 

*  As  in  Sparta,  by  the  laws  of  Lycurgus. 

t  As  in  Sparta,  and  also  among  the  Locrians,  Aristot.  Polit.  ii.  7. 

*  Aristot.  I.  c. 

§  These  fttretxoi  intjuilini,  were  formed  in  almost  all  the  Grecian  cities. 
It  was  common  lor  them  to  pay  for  protection,  and  to  tear  other  civil 
burdens. 

||  As,  for  example,  at  Athens. 

'   X-.  in  Larissa,  Aristot.  Polit.  iii.  2.     So  too  in 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE  GRECIAN  CITIES.        167 

others,  no  respect  was  had,  except  to  the  descent  of 
the  mother.*  There  were  some  cities  which  very 
rarely  and  with  difficulty  could  be  induced  to  confer 
the  right  of  citizenship;  whilst  in  others  foreigners 
were  admitted  to  it  with  readiness.  In  these  cases, 
accidental  circumstances  not  unfrequently  decided ; 
and  the  same  city  was  sometimes  compelled  to  ex- 
change its  early 'and  severe  principles,  for  milder 
ones,  if  the  number  of  the  ancient  citizens  came  to  be 
too  small. f  In  colonies,  the  milder  principles  were 
of  necessity  followed  ;  since  there  might  arrive  from 
the  mother  country  a  whole  company  of  new  emi- 
grants, whom  it  would  either  be  impossible  or  inex- 
pedient to  reject.  And  hence  we  may  explain  what 
is  so  frequently  observable  in  the  colonies,  that  the 
wards  of  the  citizens  were  divided  according  to  their 
arrival  from  the  different  mother  countries  ;  one  of 
the  most  fruitful  sources  of  internal  commotions, 
and  even  of  the  most  violent  political  revolutions.^ 
In  free  cities,  the  constitution  and  the  administra- 
tion are  always  connected  in  an  equally  eminent 
degree  with  the  division  of  the  citizens.  Birt  here 
again  we  find  a  vast  difference  among  the  Greeks. 
\Ve  first  notice  those  states,  which  made  a  dis- 
tinction in  the  privileges  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
chief  town,  and  of  the  villages  and  country.  There 
were  some  Grecian  states,  where  the  inhabitants  of 
the  city  enjoyed  great  privileges;  and  the  rest  of 
their  countrymen  stood  in  a  subordinate  relation  to 

*Aristot.  Polit   iii.  5. 

t  Thus  at  Athens,  Clisthencs  received  a  large  number  of  foreigners  into 
the  class  of  citizens. 

t  Examples  of  it  at  Sybaris,  Thurium,  Byzantium,  and  other  places,  are 
cited  by  Aristotle,  Polit.  v.  3. 


168  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

them  ;*  whilst  in  others  there  was  no  distinction  of 
rights  between  the  one  and  the  other,  f  The  other 
divisions  of  the  citizens  were  settled  partly  by  birth, 
according  to  the  ward  to  which  a  man  happened  to 
belong  :|  partly  from  his  place  of  residence,  accord- 
ing to  the  district  in  which  he  resided  ;$  and  partly 
from  property  or  the  census,  according  to  the  class  in 
which  he  was  reckoned.  Though  not  in  all,  yet  in 
many  states,  the  ward,  and  the  place  of  residence, 
were  attached  to  the  name  of  each  individual ;  which 
was  absolutely  necessary  in  a  nation,  that  had  no 
family  names,  or  where  they  at  least  were  not  gener- 
ally introduced.  There  is  no  need  of  mentioning 
how  important  was  the  difference  in  fortune  ;  as  the 
proportion  of  the  public  burden  to  be  borne  by  each 
one  was  decided  according  to  his  wealth  ;  and  the 
kind  of  service  to  be  required  in  war,  whether  in  the 
cavalry  or  the  infantry,  and  whether  in  heavy  or  light 
armour,  was  regulated  by  the  same  criterion  ;  as  will 
ever  be  the  case  in  countries,  where  there  is  no  other 
armed  force  than  the  militia  formed  of  the  citizens. 
On  these  divisions  of  the  citizens,  the  organization 
of  their  assemblies  (UxX^/a*)  was  founded.  These 
assemblies,  which  were  a  natural  result  of  city  gov- 
ernments, were,  according  to  the  views  of  the  Greeks, 
so  essential  an  institution,  that  they  probably  existed 
in  every  Grecian  city,  though  not  always  under  the 
same  regulations.  Yet  the  manner  in  which  they 
were  held  in  every  city  except  Athens  and  Sparta, 
is  almost  wholly  unknown  to  us.  The  nature  of  the 

*  Hence  in  Laconia,  the  difference  between  Spartans  and  Lacedaemonians 
(••i?.'«(».().     So  also  in  Crete  and  in  Argos. 

t  As  at  Athens.  J  According  to  the  $ vkai,  (or  wards.) 

§  According  to  the  "Mftti,  (or  cantons) 


•CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE  GRECIAN  STATES.         169 

case  required,  that  the  manner  in  which  they  were  to 
be  held,  should  every  where  be  established  by  rule. 
It  was  the  custom  to  give  to  but  one  magistrate,  the 
right  of  convoking  and  opening  them.*  But  we  do 
not  know  in  what  manner  the  votes  were  taken  in  the 
several  cities,  whether  merely  by  polls,  or  by  the 
wards  and  other  divisions  of  the  people.  And  in  this 
too,  there  was  a  great  difference,  whether  all  citi- 
zens had  the  right  of  voting,  or  whether  a  certain 
census  was  first  requisite.!  In  most  of  the  cities, 
regular  assemblies  seem  to  have  been  held  on  fixed 
days,  and  extraordinary  meetings  also  to  have  been 
held.J  To  attend  was  regarded  as  the  duty  of  every 
citizen  ;  and  as  the  better  part  were  apt  to  remain 
away,  especially  in  stormy  times,  absence  was  often 
made  a  punishable  offence.^  It  may  easily  be  sup- 
posed, that  the  decisions  were  expressed  in  an  estab- 
lished form,  written  down  and  preserved,  and  some- 
times engraved  on  tables.  But  although  the  forms 
were  fixed,  the  subjects  which  might  come  before  the 
assembly,  were  by  no  means  so  clearly  defined.  The 
principle  which  was  acted  upon,  was,  that  subjects 
which  were  important  for  the  community,  were  to  be 
brought  before  it.  But  how  uncertain  is  the  very 
idea  of  what  is,  or  is  not  important.  How  much 
too  depends  on  the  form  which  the  constitution  has 
taken  at  a  certain  period ;  whether  the  power  of  the 

*In  the  heroic  age,  it  was  the  privilege  of  the  kings  to  convoke  the  as- 
sembly. See  above,  in  the  fourth  chapter. 

t  That  a  great  variety  prevailed  in  this  respect,  is  clear  from  Aristot. 
Polit.  iv.  13. 

|  'I'lil-  was  the  case  in  Athens  and  Sparta. 

§  This  is  the  case,  says  Aristotle,  Polit.  iv.  13,  in  the  oligarchic,  or  aristo- 
cratical  cities;  while  on  the  contrary,  in  the  democratic,  the  poorwere  well 
paid  for  appearing  in  the  assemblies. 

22 


170  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

senate,  or  of  certain  magistrates  preponderates.  We 
find  even  in  the  history  of  Rome,  that  questions  of 
the  utmost  interest  to  the  people,  questions  of 
war  and  peace,  were  sometimes  submitted  to  the 
people,  and  sometimes  not.  No  less  considerable 
difference  prevailed  in  the  Grecian  cities.  Yet 
writers  are  accustomed  to  comprehend  the  subjects 
belonging  to  the  common  assemblies  in  three  grand 
classes.*  The  first  embraces  legislation  ;  for  what 
the  Greeks  called  a  law  (xo'^oj)?  was  always  a  decree 
passed,  or  confirmed  by  the  commons  ;  although  it  is 
difficult,  we  should  rather  say  impossible,  to  define 
with  accuracy  the  extent  of  this  legislation.  The 
second  embraces  the  choice  of  magistrates.  This 
right,  although  not  all  magistrates  were  appointed  by 
election,  was  regarded,  and  justly  regarded  as  one 
of  the  most  important  privileges.  For  the  power  of 
the  commons  is  preserved  by  nothing  more  effectually, 
than  by  making  it  necessary  for  those  who  would 
obtain  a  place,  to  apply  for  it  to  them.  The  third 
class  was  formed  by  the  popular  courts  of  justice, 
which,  as  we  shall  hereafter  take  occasion  to  show. 
were  of  the  highest  importance  as  a  support  of  the 
democracy. 

The  consequences  which  the  discussion  and  the 
decision  of  the  most  important  concerns  in  the  assem- 
blies of  the  whole  commons  must  inevitably  have  had, 
are  so  naturally  suggested,  that  they  hardly  need  to 
be  illustrated  at  large.  How  could  it  have  escaped 
those  lawgivers,  that  to  entrust  this  unlimited  power 
to  the  commons,  was  not  much  less  than  to  pave  the 
way  for  the  rule  of  the  populace,  if  we  include  under 
that  name  the  mass  of  indigent  citizens. 

*  The  chief  passage  on  this  subject  is  in  Aristot.  Polit.  iv.  14, 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE  GRECIAN  STATES.    171 

The  most  natural  means  of  guarding  against  this 
evil,  would  without  doubt  have  been  the  choice  of 
persons,  possessed  of  plenary  powers,  to  represent 
the  citizens.  But  it  is  obvious,  that  the  system  of 
representation  has  the  least  opportunity  of  coming  to 
perfection  in  city  governments.  It  is  the  fruit  of  the 
enlarged  extent  of  states  ;  where  it  is  impossible  for  all 
to  meet  in  the  assemblies.  But  in  cities  with  a  narrow 
territory,  what  could  lead  to  such  a  form ;  since  neither 
distance  nor  numbers  made  it  difficult  for  the  citizens 
to  appear  personally  in  the  assemblies.  It  is  true, 
that  the  alliances  of  several  cities,  as  of  the  Boeotian 
or  the  Achaean,  led  to  the  idea  of  sending  deputies 
to  the  assemblies  ;  but  in  those  meetings,  the  internal 
affairs  of  the  confederates  were  never  discussed  ;  they 
were  reserved  for  the  consideration  of  each  city  ;  and 
the  deliberations  of  the  whole  body,  related  only  to 
general  affairs  with  respect  to  foreign  relations.  But 
a  true  system  of  representation  can  never  be  formed 
in  that  manner ;  the  true  sphere  of  action  of  a  legis- 
lative body,  is  to  be  found  in  the  internal  affairs  of 
the  nation. 

It  was  therefore  necessary  to  think  of  other  means 
of  meeting  the  danger  apprehended  from  the  rule  of 
the  populace  ;  and  those  means  were  various.  Aris- 
totle expressly  remarks,*  that  there  were  cities,  in  which 
no  general  assemblies  of  the  citizens  were  held ;  and 
only  such  citizens  appeared,  as  had  been  expressly 
convoked  or  invited.  These  obviously  formed  a  class 
of  aristocratic  governments.  But  even  in  the  demo- 

*Aristot.  Polit.  Hi.  1.  A  similar  regulation  existed  in  several  German 
imperial  towns  ;  as,  for  example,  in  Bremen,  where  the  most  distinguished 
citizens  were  invited  by  the  senate  to  attend  the  convention  of  citizens  ; 
and  of  course  no  uninvited  person  made  his  appearance.  It  is  to  be  regret- 
ted, that  Aristotle  has  cited  no  Grecian  city  as  an  example. 


172  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

cracies,  means*  were  taken,  partly  to  have  the  impor- 
tant business  transacted  in  smaller  divisions,  before 
the  commons  came  to  vote  upon  it ;  partly  to  limit  the 
subjects,  which  were  to  be  brought  before  them  ;  part- 
ly to  reserve  the  revision,  if  not  of  all,  yet  of  some  of 
the  decrees,  to  another  peculiar  board  ;  and  partly, 
and  most  frequently,  to  name  another  deliberate  as- 
sembly, whose  duty  it  was  to  consider  every  thing 
which  was  to  come  before  the  commons,  and  so  far  to 
prepare  the  business,  that  nothing  remained  for  the 
commons,  but  to  accept  or  reject  the  measures  pro- 
posed. 

This  assembly  was  called  by  the  Greeks,  a  council 
(/3etA>j).  We  are  acquainted  with  its  internal  regu- 
lations only  at  Athens  ;  but  there  is  no  reason  to 
doubt,  that  in  several  Grecian  states,  a  similar  assem- 
bly existed  under  the  same  name.f  If  we  may  draw 
inferences  respecting  its  nature  in  other  states  from 
what  it  was  at  Athens,  it  consisted  of  a  numerous 
committee  of  the  citizens  annually  chosen ;  its  mem- 
bers, taken  after  a  fixed  rule  from  each  of  the  corpo- 
rations, were  chosen  by  lot ;  but  they  could  not  be- 
come actual  members  without  a  previous  examination. 
For  in  no  case  was  it  of  so  much  importance  as  here, 
to  effect  the  exclusion  of  all  but  honest  men ;  who. 
being  themselves  interested  in  the  preservation  of  the 
state  and  its  constitution,  might  decide  on  the  busi- 
ness presented  to  them,  with  prudence  and  modera- 
tion. In  Athens  at  least,  the  greatest  pains  were 

*  See  in  proof  what  follows,  Aristot.  Polit.  iv.  14.  Op.  ii.  p.  286. 
t  As  at  Argos  and  Mantinea.  Thucyd.  v.  47.     So  too  in  Chios.  Thucyd 
viii.  i4. 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE  GRECIAN  STATES.   173 

taken  with  the  internal  organization  of  this  body  ;  so 
that  it  seems  to  us,  as  will  appear  from  the  investi- 
gations respecting  this  state,  to  have  been  almost  too 
artificial.  Regulations,  similar  in  kind,  though  not 
exactly  the  same,  were  probably  established  in  the 
other  cities,  where  similar  wants  and  circumstances 
prevailed.  It  is  easy  to  perceive,  that  the  preser- 
vation of  the  internal  liberties  of  such  a  body  against 
the  encroachments  of  parties  and  too  powerful  indi- 
viduals, made  such  regulations  essential.  It  was 
probably  to  promote  this  end,  that  the  appointments 
to  the  council  were  made  only  for  the  year.*  It 
prevented  the  committee  from  becoming  a  faction,  and 
thus  assuming  the  whole  administration  of  the  state. 
But  beside  this,  another  great  advantage  was  gained  ; 
for  in  this  manner,  by  far  the  larger  number  of  dis- 
tinguished and  upright  citizens  became  acquainted 
with  the  affairs  and  the  government  of  the  state. 

In  other  cities,  instead  of  this  annual  council,  there 
was  a  senate  (yg£oy<r/a)?  which  had  no  periodical 
change  of  its  members,  but  formed  a  permanent  board. 
Its  very  name  expresses  that  it  was  composed  of  the 
elders  ;  and  what  was  more  natural,  than  to  look  for 
good  counsel  to  the  experience  of  maturity  ?  The 
rule  respecting  age  may  have  been  very  different  in 
the  several  cities,  and  perhaps  in  many  no  rule  on 
the  subject  existed.  But  in  others,  it  was  enforced 
with  rigorous  accuracy.  The  immediate  object  was 
to  have  in  it  a  board  of  counsel ;  but  its  sphere  of 
action  was  by  no  means  so  limited.  In  Sparta,  the 
assembly  of  elders  had  its  place  by  the  side  of  the 

*This  explains  why  Aristotle,  Polit.  iv.  15,  calls  the  0«*Ji  an  institution 
favourable  to  the  popular  form  of  government. 


174  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

kings.  The  senate  of  Corinth  is  mentioned  under  the 
same  name  ;*  that  of  Massiliaf  under  a  different  one, 
but  its  members  held  their  places  for  life  :  and  in 
how  many  other  cities  may  there  have  been  a  council 
of  elders,  of  which  history  makes  no  mention,  just  as 
it  is  silent  respecting  the  internal  regulations  in  those 
just  enumerated. J  Even  in  cities  which  usually  had 
no  such  senate,  an  extraordinary  one  was  sometimes 
appointed  in  extraordinary  cases,  where  good  advice 
was  needed.  This  took  place  in  Athens  after  the 
great  overthrow  in  Sicily. § 

Besides  an  assembly  of  citizens,  or  town  meeting, 
and  a  senate,  a  Grecian  city  had  its  magistrates. 
Even  the  ancient  politicians  were  perplexed  to  express 
with  accuracy,  the  idea  of  magistrates.il  For  not  all 
to  whom  public  business  was  committed  by  the  citi- 
zens, could  be  called  magistrates ;  for  otherwise  the 
ambassadors  and  priests  would  have  belonged  to  that 
class.  In  modern  constitutions,  it  is  not  seldom  diffi- 
cult to  decide,  who  ought  to  be  reckoned  in  the  num- 
ber of  magistrates,  as  will  be  apparent  from  calling 
to  mind  the  inferior  officers.  But  no  important  mis- 
understanding can  arise,  if  we  are  careful  to  affix  to 

*  Plutarch.  Op.  ii.  p.  177.  t  Strabo,  iii  p.  124. 

t  There  was  perhaps  no  one  Grecian  city,  in  which  such  a  council  did 
not  exist,  for  the  nature  of  things  made  it  almost  indispensable.  They  were 
most  commonly  called  £«i>x»i  and  yipvf'm,  and  these  words  may  often  have 
been  confounded.  For  although  the  favXn  in  Athens  was  a  body  chosen  from 
the  citizens  but  for  a  year,  and  the  yipvf'i*  of  Sparta  was  a  permanent  coun- 
cil, we  cannot  safely  infer,  that  the  terms,  when  used,  always  implied  such  a 
difference.  In  Crete,  e.  g.  the  council  of  elders  was  called  f»u\ii,  according 
to  Aristot.  Polit.  ii.  10.  though  in  its  organization  it  resembled  the  yt^tveim,  of 
Sparta.  §Thucyd.  viii.  i. 

||  See,  on  this  subject,  Aristot.  Polit.  iv.  15.  The  practical  politicians,  no 
lessthan  the  theorists,  were  perplexed  in  defining  the  word.  An  important 
passage  may  be  found  in  ^Eschin.  in  Ctesiphont.  iii.  p.  397  etc,  Reisk. 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE  GRECIAN  STATES.      175 

the  word  the  double  idea  of  possessing  a  part  of  the 
executive  power ;  and  of  gaining,  in  consequence  of 
the  importance  of  the  business  entrusted  to  them,  a 
higher  degree  of  consideration,  than  belonged  to  the 
common  citizen. 

In  the  republican  constitutions  of  the  Greeks  a 
second  idea  was  attached  to  that  of  a  magistracy ; 
it  was  necessary  to  call  every  magistrate  to  account 
respecting  the  affairs  of  his  office.*  He  who  went 
beyond  this  rule,  ceased  to  be  a  magistrate  and  be- 
came a  tyrant.  The  magistrate  was  therefore  com- 
pelled to  recognise  the  sovereignty  of  the  people. 
This  certainly  implied,  that  an  account  was  to  be 
given  to  the  commons ;  but  as  in  such  constitutions 
not  every  thing  was  systematically  established,  there 
were  some  states,  in  which  separate  boards,  as  that  of 
the  Ephori  in  Sparta,  usurped  the  right  of  calling  the 
magistrates  to  account. f 

In  the  inquiry  respecting  magistrates,  says  Aris- 
totle, J  several  questions  are  to  be  considered  ;  How 
many  magistrates  there  are,  and  how  great  is  their 
authority  ?  How  long  they  continue  in  office,  and 
whether  they  ought  to  continue  long?  Farther, — 
Who  ought  to  be  appointed  ?  and  by  whom?  arid  how? 
These  are  questions,  which  of  themselves  show,  that 
republican  states  are  had  in  view ;  and  which  lead 
us  to  anticipate  that  great  variety,  which  prevailed 
on  these  points  in  the  Grecian  constitutions.  We 
desire  to  treat  first  of  the  last  questions. 

According  to  the  whole  spirit  of  the  Grecian  con- 
stitutions, it  cannot  be  doubted,  that  their  leading 

*They  were  of  necessity  uftv^wm.    Aristot.  Polit.  ii.  12. 
t  There  were  magistrates  appointed  on  purpose,  called  tvtu»tiny!fr»i.  Aris- 
tot. Polit.  vi.  8.  J  Aristot.  Polit.  iv.  15. 


176  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

principle  was,  that  all  magistrates  must  be  appointed 
by  the  people.  The  right  of  choosing  the  magistrates, 
was  always  regarded,  and  justly  regarded,  as  an  im- 
portant part  of  the  freedom  of  a  citizen.*  But 
although  this  principle  was  predominant,  it  still  had 
its  exceptions.  There  were  states,  in  which  the  first 
offices  were  hereditary  in  certain  families.!  But  as 
we  have  already  taken  occasion  to  observe,  this  was  a 
rare  case  ;  and  where  one  magistracy  was  hereditary 
all  the  rest  were  elective ;  at  Sparta,  though  the 
royal  dignity  was  hereditary,  the  Ephori  were  chosen. 
But  beside  the  appointment  by  election,  the  custom 
very  commonly  prevailed  of  appointing  by  lot.  And 
our  astonishment  is  very  justly  excited  by  this  meth- 
od, which  not  unfrequently  commits  to  chance,  the 
appointment  to  the  first  and  most  weighty  employ- 
ments in  the  state.  But  even  in  several  of  the  Ger- 
man imperial  towns,  the  lot  had  an  important  share 
in  the  appointment  to  offices.  It  is  uninfluenced  by 
favour,  birth,  and  wealth.  And  therefore  the  nomi- 
nation of  magistrates  by  lot,  was  considered  by  the 
Grecian  politicians,  as  the  surest  characteristic  of  a 
democracy.!  But  where  the  appointment  was  left  to 
be  decided  by  that  method,  the  decision  was  not 
always  made  solely  by  it.  He  on  whom  the  lot  fell, 
could  still  be  subjected  to  a  severe  examination,  and 
very  frequently  was  so.  And  where  some  places 
were  filled  in  this  way,  it  was  by  no  means  pursued 
in  the  appointment  to  all. 

*  Aristot.  Polit.  ii.   12.  M»St  ya,^  reureu,  <rto  rij  ccgKtt 
xvpes  *v  o  tripos,  Sai/Xo;  0.1  tin  KCU  *<i\ifiitf. 
t  As  the  kings  in  Sparta. 
J  ArUtot.  Polit.  iv.  15. 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE  GRECIAN  STATES.         177 

But  in  the  election  also,  the  greatest  differences 
prevailed  ;  since  sometimes  all  classes,  and  some- 
times only  particular  ones  took  part  in  them.*  To 
admit  all  citizens  to  vote,  is  one  of  the  chief  charac- 
teristics of  a  democracy ;  and  we  know  this  was  done 
not  only  in  Athens,  but  in  many  other  cities.  But 
when  the  aristocratic  and  democratic  party  had  once 
become  distinct,  endeavours  were  almost  inevitably 
made  to  exclude  the  mass  of  the  people  from  any 
share  in  the  elections.  For  the  aristocrat  found 
nothing  more  humiliating,  than  to  approach  the  com- 
mon citizen  as  a  suppliant,  before  he  could  arrive  at 
places  of  honour.  Where  the  first  step  succeeded, 
the  second  soon  followed ;  and  the  magistrates  them- 
selves supplied  any  vacant  places  in  their  board. 
This,  says  Aristotle,f  is  the  peculiar  mark  of  oligar- 
chy, and  leads  almost  always  to  revolutions  in  the 
states. 

And  who  was  eligible  to  office  ?  This  question  is 
still  more  important,  than  that  respecting  the  electors; 
and  an  equally  great  difference  prevailed  on  this 
point  in  the  various  states.  The  maxim,  that  men, 
to  whom  the  control  of  the  public  affairs  should  be 
committed,  must  not  only  possess  sufficient  capacity, 
but  must  also  be  interested  in  the  support  of  existing 
forms,  is  so  obvious,  that  the  principle  of  excluding 
the  lower  orders  of  the  people  from  participating  in  the 
magistracies,  could  hardly  seem  otherwise  than  judi- 
cious and  necessary 4  But  when  it  was  adopted,  it  could 
seldom  be  preserved.  When  a  state  became  flourishing 

*  Aristotle,  1.  c.  classifies  these  varieties.  t  Aristot.  1.  c. 

JThat  not  only  Solon,  but  other  lawgivers  had  adopted  this  regulation, 
is  remarked  by  Aristotle,  Polit.  iii.  11 
23 


178  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

and  powerful,  the  people  felt  itself  to  be  of  more  im- 
portance ;*  and  it  was  not  always  flattery  of  the 
populace,  which  in  such  times  induced  its  leaders  to 
abolish  those  restrictive  laws,  but  a  conviction  of 
the  impossibility  of  maintaining  them.  In  an  individ- 
ual case,  such  an  unlimited  freedom  of  choice  can 
hecome  very  injurious  ;  but  it  is,  on  the  whole,  much 
less  so,  than  it  appears  to  be ;  and  the  restrictions 
are  apt  to  become  pernicious.  If  it  be  birth,  which 
forms  the  limiting  principle,  if  a  man  must  be  of  one 
of  certain  families  in  order  to  gain  an  office,  it  would 
be  made  directly  impossible  for  men  of  talents  to 
obtain  them ;  and  this  has  often  produced  the  most 
violent  revolutions.  If  fortune  be  made  the  qualifica- 
tion,! this  is  in  itself  no  criterion  of  desert.  If  it  be 
age,  want  of  energy  is  too  often  connected  with  riper 
experience. 

In  most  of  the  Grecian  cities,  there  certainly 
existed  a  reason,  why  regard  should  be  had  to  wealth; 
because  that  consisted  almost  always  in  real  estate. 
But  where  the  poor  were  excluded  by  no  restrictive 
laws,  they  were  obliged  of  their  own  accord,  to  retire 
from  most  of  the  magistracies.  These  offices  were  not 
lucrative ;  on  the  contrary,  considerable  expenses 
were  often  connected  with  them.J  There  were  no 
fixed  salaries,  as  in  our  states ;  and  the  prospect, 
which  in  Rome  in  a  later  period  was  so  inviting  to 
the  magistrates,  the  administration  of  a  province,  did 
not  exist  in  Greece.  It  was  therefore  impossible  for  the 
poorer  class  to  press  forward  with  eagerness  to  these 

*  See,  on  this  subject  also,  Aristot.l.  c. 

t  Many  places  in  Aristotle  show,  that  this  was  the  case  in  a  large  number 
ef  cities  ;  and  under  the  most  various  regulations  :  e.  g.  iv.  11. 

*  As  for  banquets,  public  buildings,  festivals,  &c.     Aristot.  Polit.  vi.  8. 


CONSTITUTIONS  OP  THE  GRECIAN  STATES.       179 

offices ;  in  many  cities  there  even  existed  a  necessity 
of  imposing  a  punishment,  if  the  person  elected  would 
not  accept  the  office  committed  to  him.*  It  was  far 
more  the  honour  and  the  glory,  than  the  gain,  which 
gave  a  value  to  the  magistrates.  But  the  honour  of 
being  the  first,  or  one  of  the  first,  among  his  fellow- 
citizens,  is  for  many  a  more  powerful  excitement,  than 
that  which  can  be  derived  from  emolument. 

In  small  republics,  no  other  fear  needs  be  enter- 
tained respecting  the  offices  of  magistrates,  than  lest 
certain  families  should  gain  the  exclusive  possession 
of  them.  This  is  what  the  Greeks  meant  by  an  oli- 
garchy,! when  the  number  of  such  families  remained 
small.  These  were  with  justice  regarded  as  a  cor- 
ruption of  the  constitutions.  There  may  have  been 
exceptions,  and  we  find  in  history,  examples  both 
within  and  without  Greece,  where  such  states  have 
been  administered  with  moderation  and  wisdom.  But 
more  frequently  experience  has  shown  the  contrary 
result.  The  precautions  taken  against  this  evil  by 
the  Grecians,  were  the  same  with  those  adopted  in 
many  of  the  German  imperial  towns  ;  persons  connect- 
ed by  blood,  as  father  and  son,  or  several  brothers, 
could  not  at  the  same  time  be  magistrates.^  Con- 
nections by  marriage  are  no  where  said  to  have  ex- 
cluded from  office  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  would  be  easier 
to  find  examples  of  brothers  in  law  filling  magistracies 
at  the  same  time.$ 

Most  of  the  magistrates  were  chosen  annually  ; 
many  for  but  half  a  year.||  This  frequent  renewal 

*  Aristot.  Polit.  iv.  9.  ^» 

t  Not  only  Aristot.  iv.  fi.  but  many  passages  in  Thucydides  ;  as  e.  g.  viii.  82. 

J  It  was  so  in  Massilia  and  in  Cnidus.     Aristot.  Polit.  v.  6. 

§  As  Agesilaus  and  Pisander  in  Sparta.  ||  Arietot.  Polit.  iv.  15. 


180  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

had  its  advantages,  and  also  its  evils.  It  is  the 
strongest  pillar  of  the  rule  of  the  people  ;  which  is  by 
nothing  so  much  confirmed,  as  by  the  frequent  exer- 
cise of  the  right  of  election.  This  was  the  point  of 
view  taken  by  the  politicians  of  Greece,  when  they 
considered  the  authority  of  the  people  to  reside  in  the 
elections.*  That  these  frequent  elections  did  not 
tend  to  preserve  internal  tranquillity,  is  easy  to  be 
perceived.  But  on  the  other  side,  the  philosopher 
of  Stagira  has  not  failed  to  remark,  that  the  perma- 
nent possession  of  magistracies  might  have  led  to 
discontentf 

An  enumeration  of  the  different  magistracies  usual 
among  the  Greeks,  is  not  required  by  our  purpose; 
neither  would  it  be  possible,  as  our  acquaintance  with 
the  several  constitutions  of  the  cities  is  incredibly 
limited.  The  little  that  we  know  of  the  regulations  in 
the  individual  states,  especially  in  Athens,  proves 
that  the  number  of  such  offices  was  very  considerable  ; 
and  the  same  appears  from  the  classification,  which 
Aristotle  has  attempted  to  mske  of  them.J  Their 
duties  are  commonly  indicated  by  their  names  ;  but 
these  again  were  entirely  different  in  the  various  cit- 
ies ;  even  in  cases  where  the  duties  were  the  same. 
The  Cosmi  were  in  Crete,  what  the  Ephori  were  in 
Sparta.  Most  of  the  cities  must  have  had  a  magis- 
trate like  the  Archons  in  Athens ;  and  yet  it  would 
not  be  easy  to  find  the  name  in  any  other.  The  nu- 
merous encroachments,  made  by  the  lawgivers  on 
domestic  life,  contributed  much  to  multiply  the  offices 
of  magistrates  and  extend  their  sphere  of  action.  The 

*  Thucyd.  viii.  89.  t  Aristot.  Polit.  ii.  5. 

t  See  the  instructive  passage,  Polit.  iv.  15. 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE  GRECIAN  STATES.        181 

Grecians  had  formed  no  idea  of  a  police,  as  a  general 
branch  of  the  administration  of  the  state  ;  but  they 
were  acquainted  with  several  of  its  branches ;  and 
although  they  had  no  general  board  of  police,  the 
circumstances  just  mentioned  led  them  to  establish 
several  particular  branches ;  and  even  some, 
which  are  not  usual  in  our  times.  The  superinten- 
dence of  women,  the  superintendence  of  children, 
was  in  many  cities  entrusted  to  particular  magis- 
trates ;*  and  as  the  Areopagus  of  Athens  had  in 
general  the  care  of  morals,  there  were  undoubtedly 
similar  tribunals  in  other  Grecian  cities. 

Thus  then  it  appears,  that  amidst  an  almost 
infinite  variety  of  forms,  assemblies  of  the  citizens, 
senates,  and  magistracies,  are  the  institutions  which 
belonged  to  every  Grecian  commonwealth.  The 
preservation  of  freedom  and  equality  among  the  com- 
mons, f  formed  their  chief  object.  It  was  not  consid- 
ered unjust  to  take  from  anyone,  of  whom  it  was  only 
feared  that  he  might  become  dangerous  to  this  free- 
dom, the  power  of  doing  injury,  by  a  temporary  ban- 
ishment from  the  city ;  and  this  took  place  at  Athens 
and  ArgosJ  by  ostracism,  and  by  petalism  in  Syra- 
cuse. Nothing  can  be  more  jealous,  than  the  love 
of  liberty  ;  and  unfortunately  for  mankind,  experi- 
ence shows  but  too  clearly,  that  it  has  reason  to 
be  so. 

Nevertheless,  neither  these,  nor  other  precau- 
tions were  able  to  save  the  Grecian  cities  from  the 
usurpations  of  tyrants,  as  they  were  termed.  Few 
cities,  in  the  mother  country,  and  in  the  colonies, 

*  The  yuyaiKovofii/it  and  the  TraiJavopai.  Aristot.  1.  c. 
fThe  alrwpla,  and  If 
t  Aristot.  Polit.  v.  3. 


182  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

escaped  this  fate.  The  Grecians  connected  with  this 
word  the  idea  of  an  illegitimate,  but  not  necessarily 
of  a  cruel  government.  It  was  illegitimate,  because 
it  was  not  conferred  by  the  commons ;  but  usurped 
without,  or  even  against  their  will.  A  demagogue, 
however  great  his  power  may  have  been,  was  never, 
as  such,  denominated  a  tyrant ;  but  he  received  the 
name,  if  he  set  himself  above  the  people  ;  that  is,  if 
he  refused  to  lay  before  the  people  the  account  which 
was  due  to  them.*  The  usual  support  of  such  an 
authority,  is  an  armed  power,  composed  of  foreigners 
and  hirelings ;  which  was  therefore  always  regarded 
as  the  sure  mark  of  a  tyrant.f  Such  a  government 
by  no  means  necessarily  implied,  that  the  existing 
regulations  and  laws  would  be  entirely  set  aside. 
They  could  continue ;  even  an  usurper  needs  an 
administration  ;  only  he  raises  himself  above  the  laws. 
The  natural  aim  of  these  tyrants  usually  was,  to  make 
their  power  hereditary  in  their  families.  But  though 
this  happened  in  many  cities,  the  supreme  power 
was  seldom  retained  for  a  long  time  by  the  same 
family.  It  continued  longest,  says  Aristotle,:}:  in  the 
house  of  Orthagoras  in  Sicyon,  for  as  it  was  very 
moderate  and  even  popular,  it  lasted  a  century  ;  and 
for  the  same  causes  it  was  preserved  about  as  long 
in  the  house  ofCypselus  in  Corinth.  But  if  it  could 
not  be  maintained  by  such  means,  how  could  it  have 
been  kept  up  by  mere  violence  and  terror.  Where 
the  love  of  freedom  is  once  so  deeply  fixed,  as  it 
was  in  the  character  of  the  Grecians,  the  attempts  to 
oppress  it  only  give  a  new  impulse  to  its  defenders. 

*By  desiring  to  become  a>wrtuttn»s.  Aristol.  Polit.  iv.  10.     See  above 
P-  161.  t  Aristot.  Polit.  iii.  14.  J  Aristot.  Polit.  v.  12. 


CONSTITUTIONS  OF  THE  GRECIAN  STATES.   183 

And  by  what  criterion  shall  the  historian,  who 
investigates  the  history  of  humanity,  form  his  judg- 
ment of  the  worth  of  these  constitutions.  By  that, 
which  a  modern  school,  placing  the  object  of  the 
state  in  the  security  of  person  and  of  property,  desires 
to  see  adopted.  We  may  observe  in  Greece  exertions 
made  to  gain  that  security ;  but  it  is  equally  clear, 
that  it  was  but  very  imperfectly  attained,  and  with  such 
constitutions  could  have  been  but  imperfectly  attain- 
ed In  the  midst  of  the  frequent  storms,  to  which  those 
states  were  exposed,  that  tranquillity  could  not  long 
be  preserved,  in  which  men  limit  their  active  powers 
to  the  improvement  of  their  domestic  condition.  It 
does  not  belong  to  us  to  institute  inquiries  into  the 
correctness  of  those  principles ;  but  experience  does 
not  admit  of  its  being  denied,  that  in  these,  to  all 
appearances,  so  imperfect  constitutions,  every  thing, 
which  forms  the  glory  of  man,  flourished  in  its  highest 
perfection.  It  was  those  very  storms,  which  called 
forth  master  spirits,  by  opening  to  them  a  sphere  of 
action.  There  was  no  place  here  for  indolence  and 
inactivity  of  mind  ;  where  each  individual  felt  most 
sensibly,  that  he  existed  only  through  the  state  and 
with  the  state ;  where  every  revolution  of  the  state 
in  some  measure  inevitably  affected  him ;  and  the 
security  of  person  and  property  was  necessarily  much 
less  firmly  established,  than  in  well  regulated  mon- 
archies. We  leave  to  every  one  to  form  his  own 
judgment,  and  select  his  own  criterion;  but  we  will 
draw  from  the  whole  one  general  inference,  that  the 
forms  under  which  the  character  of  the  human  race 
can  be  unfolded,  have  not  been  so  limited  by  the  hand 
of  the  Eternal,  as  the  wisdom  of  the  schools  would 
lead  us  to  believe. 


184  CHAPTER  NINTH. 

But  whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  value  of 
these  constitutions,  the  reflection  is  forced  upon  us, 
that  they  surpassed  all  others  in  internal  variety ; 
and  therefore  in  no  other  nation  could  so  great  an 
abundance  of  political  ideas  have  been  awakened. 
and  preserved  in  practical  circulation.  Of  the  hun- 
dreds of  Grecian  cities,  perhaps  there  were  no  two, 
of  which  the  constitutions  were  perfectly  alike ;  and 
none,  of  which  the  internal  relations  had  not  changed 
their  form.  How  much  had  been  tried  in  each  one 
of  them,  and  how  often  had  the  experiments  been 
repeated  !  And  did  not  each  of  these  experiments 
enrich  the  science  of  politics  with  new  results? 
Where  then  could  there  have  been  so  much  political  an- 
imation, so  large  an  amount  of  practical  knowledge,  as 
among  the  Greeks  ?  If  uniformity  is,  in  the  political 
world,  as  in  the  regions  of  taste  and  letters,  the  parent 
of  narrowness,  and  if  variety,  on  the  contrary,  pro- 
motes cultivation,  no  nation  ever  moved  in  better 
paths  than  the  Greeks.  Although  some  cities  became 
preeminent,  no  single  city  engrossed  every  thing ; 
the  splendor  of  Athens  could  as  little  eclipse  Corinth 
and  Sparta,  as  Miletus  and  Syracuse.  Each  city  had 
a  life  of  its  own,  its  own  manner  of  existence  and 
action  ;  and  it  was  because  each  one  had  a  conscious- 
ness of  its  own  value,  that  each  came  to  possess  an 
independent  worth. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.  185 


CHAPTER  TENTH. 


THE  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS. 

THE  increasing  wants  of  modern  states  have  not 
only  employed  practical  statesmen,  but  have  led  to  the 
formation  of  many  theories,  of  which  the  truth  and 
utility  are  still  subjects  of  discussion.  Among  the 
ancients,  the  finances  of  the  nation  were  not  regarded 
from  so  high  a  point  of  view,  and  therefore  could  not 
have  been,  in  the  same  degree,  an  object  of  specula- 
tion. Whether  the  world  has  lost  by  this,  or  not, 
is  a  question  which  we  prefer  to  leave  unanswered. 
If  the  ancients  knew  less  of  the  importance  of  the 
division  of  labour,  they  were  also  less  acquainted 
with  the  doctrine  of  the  modern  schools,  which  trans- 
forms nations  into  productive  herds.  The  Greeks 
were  aware,  that  men  must  have  productive  arts,  if 
they  would  live  ;  but  that  it  is  the  end  of  life  to  be 
employed  in  them,  never  entered  their  minds. 

But  the  modern  should  not  look  with  absolute 
contempt  on  the  state  of  political  science  among  the 
ancients.  The  chief  question  now  agitated  be- 
tween theorists  and  practical  statesmen,  whether  the 
mere  gain  in  money  decides  on  the  wealth  of  a 
nation,  and  should  form  the  object  of  its  industry, 
was  correctly  understood  and  answered  by  the  illus- 
trious Stagirite.  "  Many,"  says  he,*  (i  suppose 
wealth  to  consist  in  the  abundance  of  coined  money, 

*Aristot.  Polit.  i  9. 

24 


186  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

because  it  is  the  object  of  usury  and  commerce. 
Money  is  of  itself  without  value,  and  gains  its  utility 
only  by  the  law  ;  when  it  ceases  to  be  current,  it  loses 
its  value,*  and  cannot  be  employed  in  the  acquisi- 
tion of  necessaries  ;  and  therefore  he  who  is  rich  in 
money,  may  yet  be  destitute  of  a  necessary  support. 
But  it  is  ridiculous  to  say,  that  wealth  consists  in  any 
thing,  of  which  a  man  may  be  possessed,  and  yet  die 
of  hunger  ;  as  the  fable  relates  of  Midas,  at  whose 
touch  every  thing  became  gold."f 

In  a  nation,  in  which  private  existence  was  subor- 
dinate to  that  of  the  public,  the  industry  employed  in 
the  increase  of  wealth,  could  not  gain  the  exclusive 
importance,  which  it  has  with  the  moderns.  With  the 
ancients,  the  citizen  was  first  anxious  for  the  state, 
and  only  next  for  himself.  As  long  as  there  is  any 
higher  object  than  the  acquisition  of  money,  the  love 
of  self  cannot  manifest  itself  so  fully,  as  where  every 
higher  object  is  wanting.  While  religion  in  modern 
Europe  primarily  engaged  the  attention  of  states,  as 
of  individuals,  the  science  of  finances  could  not  be  fully 
developed,  although  the  want  of  money  was  often 
very  sensibly  felt.  Men  learned  to  tread  under  foot 
the  most  glorious  productions  of  mind,  to  trample 
upon  the  monuments  of  moral  and  intellectual  great- 
ness, before  they  received  those  theories,  which  assigu 
to  the  great  instructers  of  mankind  in  philosophy  and 


"'OrtTi  ft.irttfife.iyur  rvixgup.it/utcvtiwia.Zitr,  xc<  %gr,fifiar  trgo;  eufit  <rZi 
mtayKct'mi  Ifrl.  I  presume  thai  Aristotle  in  this  expression  had  in  view  the 
nominal  coins,  which  were  very  common  among  the  Greeks.  The  nature 
of  these  coins  will  be  explained  hereafter. 

t  Aristotle  found  in  the  traditions  of  Greece,  a  more  suitable  example, 
than  that  which  has  usually  been  cited  respecting  the  man,  who  had  abun- 
dance  of  gold  on  a  desert  island. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.     187 

in  religion,  a  place  in  the  unproductive  class.  In  the 
states  of  Greece,  each  individual  was  obliged  of  him- 
self to  say,  that  his  own  welfare  was  connected  with 
the  welfare  of  the  state  ;  that  his  private  welfare  would 
be  ruined  by  a  revolution  in  the  existing  order  of 
things,  by  the  rule  of  the  populace,  or  by  subjection 
to  a  foreign  power;  that  all  his  industry  was  of  ad- 
vantage to  him  only  while  the  state  should  continue 
to  subsist.  Although  the  patriotism,  thus  produced, 
proceeded  frequently  from  selfishness,  it  had  as  a  con- 
sequence, that  the  exertions  of  the  individual  were 
directed  to  something  besides  his  private  advantage, 
and  that  his  private  welfare  was  less  regarded  than 
that  of  the  public.  The  times  arrived,  in  which 
this  too  was  changed ;  but  they  were  the  precursors 
of  the  ruin  of  liberty. 

There  was  still  another  reason,  which  contributed 
to  make  the  Greeks  regard  the  arts  of  industry  in 
general,  and  some  of  them  in  particular,  in  a  very  diffe- 
rent light  from  that  in  which  they  are  now  considered. 
And  this  was  slavery,  which  was  generally  prevalent, 
either  under  the  form  of  domestic  servitude,  or,  in 
some  states,  of  villanage. 

To  be  convinced  of  this,  we  need  only  look  at  the 
variety  of  employments,  which  were  carried  on  by 
slaves  and  villains.  Such  were  all  those  household 
duties,  which  with  us  are  committed  to  footmen  ;  and 
beside  them,  several  other  charges,  as  the  superin- 
tendence, and,  in  part,  the  early  education  and  in- 
struction of  children.  Vanity,  still  more  than  neces- 
sity, increased  the  number  of  those  who  were  held 
in  bondage,  after  it  became  the  custom  to  be  served 
by  a  numerous  retinue  of  beautiful  slaves.  In  the 


188  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

same  manner,  all  labours  were  performed,  which  are 
now  done  by  journeymen  and  lacqueys.  Some  of  the 
rich  Grecians  made  a  business  of  keeping  slaves  to  let 
for  such  services.  All  kinds  of  labour  in  the  mines 
were  performed  by  slaves  ;  who,  as  well  as  the  mines, 
were  the  property  of  individual  citizens.*  The  sail- 
ors on  board  of  the  gallies,  consisted,  at  least  in  part,  of 
slaves.  Most  if  not  all  trades  were  carried  on  by  slaves ; 
who  were  universally  employed  in  the  manufacturing 
establishments.  In  these,  not  only  the  labourers,  but 
also  the  overseers  were  slaves ;  for  the  owners  did 
not  even  trouble  themselves  with  the  care  of  superin- 
tending ;  but  they  farmed  the  whole  to  persons,  who 
were  perhaps  often  the  overseers  also,  and  from  whom 
they  received  a  certain  rent,  according  to  the  number 
of  slaves,  which  they  were  obliged  to  keep  undiminish- 
ed.f  In  those  states,  where  there  were  slaves  attach- 
ed to  the  soil,  as  in  Laconia,  Messenia,  Crete,  and 
Thessaly,  agriculture  was  conducted  exclusively  by 
them.  In  the  others,  the  masters  may  have  bestowed 
more  attention  on  the  subject ;  but  as  the  Strepsiades 
of  the  comedian  shows,  they  did  little  more  than 
superintend  ;  and  the  work  was  left  to  the  slaves. 

If  we  put  all  this  together,  we  shall  see  how  lim- 
ited were  the  branches  of  industry,  which  remained 
for  the  free.  But  the  most  unavoidable,  and  at  the 
same  time  the  most  important  consequence  of  it  was, 
that  all  those  employments  which  were  committed  to 
slaves,  were  regarded  as  mean  and  degrading  ;$  and 
this  view  of  them  was  not  only  confirmed  by  prevail- 

*  Xenoph.  de  Redit.  speaks  of  this  point  at  large, 
t  See  Petit,  de  Leg.  Alt.  ii.  6. 

$  B«»«u*«,  artea  iUiberales.     We  have  no  word  which  exactly  expresses 
this  idea,  because  we  have  not  the  thing  itself. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.     189 

ing  prejudices,  but  expressly  sanctioned  by  the  laws. 
To  this  class  belonged  especially  the  mechanics,  and 
even  the  retailers.  For  although  all  mechanic  em- 
ployments were  by  no  means  conducted  by  slaves,  a 
shade  was  thrown  on  them  all.  "  In  well  regulated 
states,"  says  Aristotle,*  "  the  lower  order  of  mechan- 
ics are  not  even  admitted  to  the  rights  of  citizens  ;" 
and  now  we  cease  to  wonder  at  the  proposition  of 
another  statesman,!  who  would  commit  all  mechanic 
labours  to  public  slaves.  This  was  not  merely  a 
theory  ;  it  was  once  actually  put  in  practice  at  Epi- 
damnus.f  In  the  cities  which  were  democratically 
governed,  the  condition  of  the  mechanics  was  some- 
what more  favourable.  They  could  become  citizens 
and  magistrates,  as  at  Athens  during  the  rule  of  the 
people.  $  The  inferior  branches  of  trade  were  not 
looked  upon  with  much  more  favour.  In  Thebes, 
there  was  a  law,  that  no  one,  who  within  ten  years 
had  been  engaged  in  retail  dealings,  could  be  elected 
to  a  magistracy.)! 

As  the  Grecian  cities  were  very  different  in  char- 
acter, the  ideas  which  prevailed  on  this  subject, 
could  not  be  the  same.  In  those  states  where  agri- 
culture was  the  chief  employment,  the  other  means 
of  gaining  a  livelihood  may  have  been  despised.  In 
maritime  and  commercial  towns,  of  which  the  number 
was  very  considerable,  the  business  of  commerce  must 
have  been  esteemed.  But  those  who  were  employed 
in  manufacturing  and  selling  goods,  were  never  able 
to  gain  that  degree  of  respectability,  which  they 


*  Aristot.  Polit.  Hi.  5.     *H  ^t  /3sX'nW»j  -r'oKi;  eu  iroirif'.i  fiat»uff«r  ?r«X/T>i». 

t  Phaneas  of  Chalcedon.     Aristot.  Polit.  ii.  7. 

}  Aristot.  Polit.  I.e.  §  Aristot.  Polit.  iii.  4.  ||  Ari.tot.  I.  c, 


190  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

enjoy  among  modern  nations.*  Even  in  Athens, 
says  Xenophon,f  much  would  be  gained  by  treating 
more  respectfully  and  more  hospitably  the  foreign 
merchants,  brought  by  their  business  to  that  city. 
The  income  derived  from  landed  estate,  was  most 
esteemed  by  the  Greeks.  "  The  best  nation/*'  says 
Aristotle,  J  "  is  a  nation  of  farmers." 

From  the  little  esteem  in  which  the  other  means 
of  gaining  a  livelihood  were  held,  it  followed  that  a 
wealthy  middling  class  could  not  be  formed  in  the 
Grecian  states ;  and  this  is  censured  by  those  who 
have  criticised  their  constitutions,  as  the  chief  cause 
of  their  unsettled  condition.  But  this  censure  rests, 
for  the  most  part,  on  an  erroneous  representation.  It 
was  degrading  for  a  Grecian  to  carry  on  any  of  those 
kinds  of  employment  with  his  own  hands ;  but  it  by 
no  means  lessened  his  consideration  to  have  them 
conducted  on  his  account.  Work-shops  and  manu- 
factures, as  well  as  mines  and  lands,  could  be  possess- 
ed by  the  first  men  in  the  country.  The  father  of 
Demosthenes,  a  rich  and  respectable  man,  left  at  his 
death  a  manufactory  of  swords ;  which  was  kept  up 
by  his  son  ;$  and  examples  could  be  easily  multiplied, 
from  the  orators  and  the  comedian.  When  this  cir- 
cumstance is  kept  in  view,  the  blame  attached  to  the 
Grecian  constitutions  is,  in  a  great  measure,  though 
not  entirely  removed.  The  impediments  which  public 
opinion  put  in  the  way  of  industry,  did  not  so  much 
injure  those  concerned  in  any  large  enterprise,  as 

*  Compare  on  this  subject,  first  of  all,   Aristot.  Polit.  1.  11,  where  he  ana- 
lyzes and  treats  of  the  several  branches  of  industry. 

tXen.  de  Redit.  Op.  p.  922.  Leunclav.  J  Aristot.  Polit.  vi.  4. 

§  Deraosth.  adv.  Aphob.  Op.  ii.  p.  816. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.  191 

those  engaged  in  the  smaller  occupations.  The  latter 
did  really  feel  the  evil,  and  we  are  not  disposed  to 
represent  it  as  inconsiderable. 

But  we  must  return  once  more  to  the  remark 
which  explains  the  true  cause  of  this  regulation  ;  that 
in  the  Grecian  states,  public  life  was  placed  above 
private  life.  u  All  agree,"  says  Aristotle,*  "  that  in 
every  well  regulated  state,  sufficient  leisure  must  be 
preserved  from  the  wants  of  life  for  the  public  busi- 
ness; but  a  difference  of  opinion  exists  as  to  the  man- 
ner in  which  this  can  be  done.  It  is  effected  by 
means  of  slaves  ;  who  are  not,  however,  treated  in  all 
places  alike."  Here  we  have  the  point  of  view,  from 
which  the  politician  should  consider  slavery  in  Greece. 
It  served  to  raise  the  class  of  citizens  to  a  sort  of 
nobility,  especially  where  they  consisted  almost  en- 
tirely of  landed  proprietors.  It  is  true,  that  this  class 
lived  by  the  labours  of  the  other;  and  every  thing, 
which  in  modern  times  has  been  said  respecting  and 
against  slavery,  may  therefore  so  far  be  applied  to 
the  Grecians.  But  their  fame  does  not  rest  on  the 
circumstance  of  their  obtaining  that  leisure  at  the 
expense  of  the  lower  order ;  but  in  the  application, 
which  the  noblest  of  them  made  of  that  leisure.  No 
one  will  deny,  that  without  their  slaves,  the  character 
of  the  culture  of  the  upper  class  in  Greece  could  in  no 
respects  have  become  what  it  did  ;  and  if  the  fruits 
which  were  borne,  possess  a  value  for  every  cultivated 
mind,  we  may  at  least  be  permitted  to  doubt,  whether 
they  were  too  dearly  purchased  by  the  introduction 
of  slavery.f 

*  Aristotle  ii.  9. 

t  This  may  be  the  more  safely  asserted,  because  it  is  hardly  possible  to 
say  any  thing  in  general  on  the  condition  of  slaves  io  Greece  ;  so  different 


192  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

The  free  exertions  of  industry  were  in  some  meas- 
ure limited  by  the  regulations  of  which  we  have 
spoken  ;  but  in  a  very  different  manner  from  any  usual 
in  our  times.  They  were  the  result  of  public  opinion  ; 
and  if  they  were  confirmed  by  the  laws,  this  was  done 
in  conformity  to  that  opinion.  In  other  respects,  the 
interference  of  government  in  the  matter  was  incon- 
siderable. It  was  not  considered  as  an  object,  to 
preserve  the  mass  of  species  undiminished,  or  to 
increase  it;  nothing  was  known  of  the  balance  of 
trade ;  and  consequently  all  the  violent  measures 
resulting  from  it,  were  never  devised  by  the  Greeks. 
They  had  duties,  as  well  as  the  moderns ;  but  those 
duties  were  exacted  only  for  the  sake  of  increasing 
the  public  revenue,  not  to  direct  the  efforts  of  domestic 
industry,  by  the  prohibition  of  certain  wares.  There 
was  no  prohibition  of  the  exportation  of  the  raw 
produce ;  no  encouragement  of  manufactures  at  the 
expense  of  the  agriculturalists.  In  this  respect, 
therefore,  there  existed  freedom  of  occupations,  com- 
merce, and  trade.  And  such  was  the  general  custom. 
As  every  thing  was  decided  by  circumstances  and  not 
by  theories,  there  may  have  been  single  exceptions, 
and  perhaps  single  examples,*  where  the  state  for 
a  season  usurped  a  monopoly.  But  how  far  was 
this  from  the  mercantile  and  restrictive  system  of  the 
moderns  ! 

The  reciprocal  influence  between  national  econo- 
my, and  that  of  the  state,  is  so  great  and  so  natural, 

was  it  at  different  times  ;  in  different  countries  ;  and  even  in  the  same  coun- 
try. On  this  sulject  I  would  refer  to  the  following  instructive  work ;  Ges- 
chichte  und  Zustand  der  Sclaverey  und  Leibeigenschaft  iu  Griechenland, 
von  J.  F.  Reitemeyer.  Berlin,  1789.  History  and  Condition  of  Slavery  and 
Villanage  in  Greece,  by  J.  F.  Reitemeyer. 
*  Aristot.  de  Re  Farail.  1.  ii- 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.     193 

that  it  was  necessary  to  premise  a  few  observations 
respecting  the  former.  Before  we  treat  of  the  latter, 
it  will  be  useful  to  say  a  few  words  on  a  subject, 
which  is  equally  important  to  both  ;  the  money  of  the 
Greeks. 

National  economy  can  exist  without  money,  but 
finances  cannot.  It  would  be  important  to  fix  the 
time,  when  coined  money  first  became  current  in 
Greece,  and  when  money  was  first  coined  in  the 
country  itself.  But  it  is  difficult  to  give  an  exact 
answer  to  either  of  these  questions,  especially  to  the 
first.  Homer  never  speaks  of  money  ;  and  his  silence 
is  in  this  case  valid  as  evidence ;  for  in  more  than 
one  passage  where  he  speaks  of  a  barter,*  he  must 
necessarily  have  mentioned  it,  if  he  had  been  acquaint- 
ed with  it.  On  the  other  hand,  we  may  confidently 
affirm  on  the  authority  of  Demosthenes,  that  in  the 
age  of  Solon,f  coined  silver  money  was  not  only  known 
in  the  cities  of  Greece,  but  had  been  in  circulation 
for  a  length  of  time  ;$  for  the  punishment  of  death 
had  already  been  set  upon  the  crime  of  counterfeiting 
it;  Solon  mentioned  it  as  in  general  use  throughout 

*  As  for  example,  II.  vi.  472.    Od.  i.  430. 

t  About  600  years  before  the  Christian  era. 

j."  I  will  relate  to  you,"  says  the  orator,  while  opposing  a  bill  brought 
in  by  Timocrates,  "  what  Solon  once  said  against  a  man  who  proposed  a 
bad  law.  The  cities,  said  he  to  the  judges,  have  a  law,  that  he  who  coun- 
terfeits money,  shall  be  put  to  death.  He  thought  this  law  was  made  for 
the  protection  of  private  persons,  and  their  private  intercourse ;  but  the 
laws  he  esteemed  the  coin  of  the  state.  They,  therefore,  who  corrupt  the 
laws,  must  be  much  more  heavily  punished,  than  they  who  adulterate  the 
coinage  or  introduce  false  money.  Yea,  many  cities  exist  and  flourish,  al- 
though they  use  brass  and  lead  instead  of  silver  money  ;  but  those  which 
have  bad  laws,  will  certainly  be  ruined."  Demosth.  in  Timocrat.  Op.  i.  p. 
763,  764.  Compare  with  this  what  Herod,  iii.  56,  says  of  the  counterfeit 
money,  with  which  Polycrates  is  said  to  have  cheated  the  Spartans. 

25 


194  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

the  Grecian  cities ;  and  many  of  them  had  already 
supplied  its  place  with  the  baser  metals.  The  Gre- 
cian coins,  which  are  still  extant,  can  afford  us  no 
accurate  dates,  as  the  time  of  their  coinage  is  not 
marked  upon  them  ;  but  several  of  them  are  certainly 
as  ancient  as  the  age  of  Solon ;  and  perhaps  are  even 
older.  The  coins  of  Sybaris,  for  example,  must  be 
at  least  of  the  sixth  century  before  the  Christian  era ; 
as  that  city  was  totally  destroyed  in  the  year510  B.  C. 
The  most  ancient  coins  of  Rhegium,  Croton,  and 
Syracuse,  seem  from  the  letters  in  the  superscriptions 
to  be  of  far  higher  antiquity.*  If  the  account  that 
Lycurgus  prohibited  in  Sparta,  the  use  of  money  of 
the  precious  metals,  is  well  supported,!  we  should  be 
able  to  trace  the  history  of  Grecian  coins  to  a  still 
more  remote  age ;  and  this  opinion  is  corroborated  at 
least  by  the  narration  of  the  Parian  chronicle,^  that 
Phidon  of  Argos  in  the  year  631  (i.  e.  895  years  B.  C.) 
first  began  to  coin  silver  in  the  island  of  ^Egina. 

But  although  we  cannot  at  present  trace  the  his- 
tory of  coined  money  in  Greece  any  farther, §  we  may 
from  the  preceding  observations  infer  one  general 
conclusion ;  the  founding  of  colonies  and  the  inter- 
course kept  up  with  them,  caused  coined  money  to  be  in- 
troduced and  extensively  used  in  Greece.  Before  their 

*Ekhel.  Doctrina  Numorum  Veterum,  i.  p.  170—177.  242. 

t  Plutarch,  in  Lycurg.  Op.  i.  p.  177.  His  code  is  computed  to  have  been 
given  about  880  years  B.  C. 

i  Manner  Parium.  Ep.  xxxi.  cf.  Strabo  viii.  p.  247.  This  was  about  15 
years  before  the  legislation  of  Lycurgus.  It  might,  therefore,  not  without 
probability  be  supposed,  that  Lycurgus  wished  and  was  able  to  prohibit  mon- 
ey of  the  precious  metals,  because  it  at  that  time  was  just  beginning  to  circu- 
late in  Greece. 

§  Compare  Wachteri  Archaeologia  Nutnmaria,  Lips.  1740;  and  the  intro- 
ductory inquiries  in  Ekhel.  D.  H.  V. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.  195 

foundation,  the  Greeks  knew  nothing  of  coined  money. 
When  money  was  first  coined  in  ./Egina,  the  colonies 
of  Asia  Minor  and  of  Magna  Graecia*  were  already 
established  and  flourishing ;  and  we  are  expressly 
informed,  that  money  was  coined  in  that  island,  in 
order  to  carry  on  commerce  beyond  the  sea.f  It  can- 
not be  proved  with  certainty,  that  money  was  coined 
in  the  Asiatic  colonies  sooner  than  in  the  mother 
country.  But  when  we  call  to  mind  the  well  known 
relation  of  Herodotus,:}:  that  the  Lydians  were  the 
inventors  of  money  coined  of  gold  and  silver  (a  thing 
in  itself  not  improbable,  as  it  is  known  that  Lydia 
abounded  in  gold,§  and  that  the  most  flourishing 
Grecian  colonies  were  situated  on  the  Lydian  coasts) 
we  cannot  but  find  it  highly  probable,  that  the  Greeks 
received  their  stamps  for  coining,  like  so  many  other 
inventions,  from  Asia ;  and  here  too,  the  remark  is 
valid,  that  in  their  hands  every  thing  received  a  new 
form  and  a  new  beauty.  For  no  nation  has  ever  yet 
had  coins,  of  which  the  stamp  equalled  in  beauty 
those  of  the  Grecian,  and  especially  of  the  Sicilian 
cities. 

The  right  of  minting  gold  was  regarded  in  Greece 
as  the  privilege  of  the  state,  which  superintended  it. 
Hence  arose  that  variety  and  multitude  of  city  coins, 
which  are  easily  distinguished  by  their  peculiar  stamp. 
Coins  were  also  struck  by  several  of  the  tribes,  the 
Thessalians,  the  Boeotians,  and  others,  as  they  form- 
ed by  their  alliances  one  political  body. 

*  As  e.  g.  Cutnae. 

t  Strabo  viii.  p.  259.    He  refers  to  Epborus.  J  Herod,  i.  94. 

§  Nor  is  there  any  other  nation,  which  disputes  this  honour  with  the  Ly- 
dians. For  the  Egyptians  e.  g.  are  named  without  any  reason.  See  Wach- 
ter,  1.  c.  cap.  iv. 


196  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

Though  the  Grecian  coins  were  of  both  precious  and 
base  metals,  they  were  originally  struck  of  precious 
metal  only,  and  probably  at  first  of  nothing  but  silver. 
So  few  of  the  gold  coins  have  been  preserved,  that  we 
cannot  certainly  say,  whether  they  are  altogether  as 
ancient ;  but  those  of  base  metal  are  certainly  of  a 
later  period.  That  even  before  the  time  of  Solon, 
silver  money  had  in  many  cities  a  large  proportion  of 
alloy,  appears  from  the  passage  which  we  cited 
from  Demosthenes.*  In  Hellas  itself,  we  know  of  no 
silver  mines  except  those  of  Laurium,  which  were  very 
ancient  ;f  but  the  gold  mines  of  Thrace  and  the 
neighbouring  island  Thasos  were  quite  as  ancient,  for 
they  were  wrought  by  the  Phoenicians.  Yet  the 
Greeks  received  most  of  their  gold  from  Lydia.  And 
still  there  was  not  species  enough  in  circulation,  es- 
pecially in  the  commercial  towns  ;  and  although  the 
Greeks  knew  nothing  of  paper  money,  several  cities 
made  use  of  the  same  resource,  which  had  been  intro- 
duced at  Carthage,J  the  use  of  nominal  coins,  which 
possessed  a  current  value,  not  corresponding  to  their 
intrinsic  one.§  Such  was  the  iron  money  (if  my  view 
is  a  just  one)  which  was  adopted  in  Byzantium, 
Clazomene,||  and  perhaps  in  some  other  cities.H 

*  Yet  the  ancient  gold  coins  which  we  still  possess,  have  almost  no  alloy, 
and  the  silver  ones  very  little. 

t  So  old,  that  it  was  impossible  to  fix  their  age.  Xenoph.  de  Redif.  Op.  p. 
924. 

t  Heeren's  Ideeu  ii.  S.  164.  §  Pollux  ix.  78. 

||  Aristot.  (Econ.  ii.  Op.  ii.  p.  383.     A  decisive  passage. 

H  Most  of  the  cities,  says  Xenophon,  Op.  p.  922,  have  money,  which  is  not 
current  except  in  their  own  territory;  hence  merchants  are  obliged  to 
barter  their  own  wares  for  other  wares.  Athens  makes  a  solitary  excep- 
tion. It  was  therefore  quite  common  for  cities  to  have  two  kinds  of  money 
coins  of  nominal  value,  current  only  in  the  city -which  struck  them  ;  and 
metallic  money,  of  which  the  value  depended  on  its  intrinsic  worth,  and 
which  circulated  in  other  places.  Hence  Plato  de  Legg.  v.p.  742,  permits  this 
in  his  state. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.     197 

It  is  certain,  therefore,  that  the  Greeks  had  money 
which  was  current  only  in  the  state,  and  out  of  it  was 
of  no  value ;  as  we  learn  also  from  a  passage  in  Pla- 
to.* It  is  much  to  be  regretted,  that  we  do  not  know 
by  what  means  its  value  was  kept  from  falling. 

The  inquiry  into  the  economy  of  a  nation,  intricate 
as  it  may  be,  can  be  reduced  to  the  following  points  ; 
What  were  the  wants  of  the  state  ?  What  means  were 
adopted  to  supply  them?  How  were  those  means 
brought  together  ?  How  administered  ?  The  inquiry 
respecting  the  economy  of  the  Grecian  states  will  be 
conducted  with  reference  to  these  questions. 

The  small  republics  of  that  people  appear  at  the 
first  view,  according  to  the  modern  criterion,  to  have 
hardly  had  any  wants,  which  could  make  a  financial 
system  necessary  ;  and  in  fact  there  were  some  states, 
as  Sparta  during  a  long  period,  without  any  finances. 
The  magistrates  were  rewarded  with  honour,  not  with 
a  salary.  The  soldiers  were  citizens  and  not  hire- 
lings ;  and  many  of  those  public  institutions,  which 
are  now  supported  by  the  governments  for  the  most 
various  purposes,  and  in  part  at  very  great  expense, 
were  then  entirely  unknown,  because  they  were  not 
felt  to  be  necessary. 

Nevertheless  we  find  the  contrary  to  have  been 
true.  The  burdens  which  the  citizens  of  those  re- 
publics had  to  support,  continued  gradually  to  in- 
crease ;  and  in  the  later  period  of  Grecian  liberty, 
became  so  great,  that  we  cannot  but  esteem  them  op- 
pressive. States  can  create  wants,  no  less  than  indi- 

*  Plato  I.e.  The  current  silver  money  consisted  in  drachmas,  and  pie- 
ces of  money  were  struck  of  as  much  as  four  drachmas.  Kkhcl  i.  p.  Ixxxv. 
thinks  it  probable,  that  the  other  cities  followed  the  Attic  standard. 


198  CHAPTEIl  TENTH. 

viduals.  Even  in  Greece,  experience  shows  that 
necessities  are  multiplied  with  the  increase  of  power 
and  splendor.  But  when  we  call  them  oppressive,  we 
must  not  forget,  that  the  heaviness  of  the  contributions 
paid  to  the  state,  is  not  to  be  estimated  by  their 
absolute  amount;  nor  yet  by  the  proportion  alone, 
which  that  amount  bears  to  the  income.  In  our 
present  investigations,  it  is  more  important  to  bear 
in  mind,  what  our  modern  economists  have  entirely 
overlooked,  that  in  republican  states  (or  at  least  more 
especially  in  them)  there  exists  beside  the  criterion 
of  money,  a  moral  criterion,  by  which  a  judgment  on 
the  greater  or  less  degree  of  oppression  is  to  be  form- 
ed. Where  the  citizen  exists  only  with  and  for  the 
state ;  where  the  preservation  of  the  commonwealth 
is  every  thing  to  the  individual ;  many  a  tax  is  easily 
paid,  which  under  other  circumstances  would  have  been 
highly  oppressive.  But  in  the  theories  of  our  mod- 
ern political  artists,  there  is  no  chapter,  which  treats 
of  the  important  influence  of  patriotism  and  public 
spirit  on  the  financial  system  ;  probably  because  the 
statistical  tables  do  not  make  mention  of  them  as 
sources  of  produce. 

The  wants  of  states  are  partly  established  by  their 
nature ;  hut  still  more  by  opinion.  That  is  a  real 
want,  which  is  believed  to  be  such.  The  explanation 
of  the  management  of  the  affairs  of  any  nation  would 
necessarily  be  very  imperfect,  if  we  should  pay  no 
regard  to  the  ideas,  which  it  entertained  respecting  its 
necessities.  On  this  point  the  Greeks  had  very  diffe- 
rent notions  from  ours.  Many  things  seemed  essen- 
tial to  them,  which  do  not  appear  so  to  us ;  many 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.  199 

things  are  needed  by  us,  of  which  they  did  not  feel 
the  necessity. 

The  first  object  with  the  Greek  was  the  honour  and 
splendor  of  his  city.  In  that  world  of  small  republics, 
each  wished  to  make  itself  remarkable ;  each  to  be 
distinguished  for  something.  Now  there  were  two 
things,  which  in  the  eyes  of  the  Greeks,  rendered  a 
city  illustrious  ;  its  public  monuments  and  its  festivals. 
These  objects  were  therefore  politically  necessary, 
in  a  different  sense  from  that  in  which  they  can  be 
called  so  in  modern  states.  Among  these  the  first 
place  belongs  to  the  temples.  No  Grecian  city  was 
without  gods,  of  whom  it  honoured  some  as  its  guar- 
dian deities.  How  could  these  gods  be  left  without 
dwelling-places  ?  The  art  of  sculpture  was  very  nat- 
urally exerted  in  connexion  with  that  of  architecture  ; 
for  the  statues  of  the  gods  did  not  merely  adorn  the 
temples,  but  were  indispensably  necessary  as  objects 
of  adoration.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  festivals. 
Life  without  holidays  would  have  ceased  to  be  life  to 
a  Greek.  But  these  holidays  were  not  passed  exclu- 
sively in  prayers,  or  at  banquets.  Processions,  music, 
and  public  shows,  were  an  essential  part  of  them. 
These  were  not  merely  the  diversions  of  the  people 
during  the  festival,  they  constituted  the  festival 
itself. 

All  this  was  intimately  connected  with  religion. 
The  Greeks  had  almost  no  public  festivals  except 
religious  ones.  They  were  celebrated  in  honour  of 
some  God,  some  hero  ;  above  all  in  honour  of  the  pa- 
tron deities  of  the  place.*  By  this  means,  many  things 

*  Meursii  Graecia  Feriata,  in  Gronov.  Thes.  Ant  Graec.  vol.  vii.  is  one  of 
the  richest  compilations  on  the  subject  of  the  Grecian  festivals. 


200  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

which  we  are  accustomed  to  regard  as  objects  of 
amusement,  received  a  much  more  elevated  character. 
They  became  duties  enjoined  by  religion ;  which 
could  not  be  neglected  without  injury  to  the  honour 
and  reputation,  and  even  to  the  welfare  of  the  city. 
The  gods  would  have  been  incensed  ;  and  the  acci- 
dental evils,  which  might  have  fallen  on  the  city? 
would  infallibly  have  been  regarded  as  punishments 
inflicted  by  the  gods.  We  need  not  therefore  be 
astonished,  when  we  hear  that  a  city  could  be  very 
seriously  embarrassed  for  want  of  sufficient  means  to 
celebrate  its  festivals  with  due  solemnity.* 

Thus  a  field,  an  almost  immeasurable  field  was 
opened  for  public  expenses  of  a  kind,  hardly  known 
to  modern  states.  Even  in  cases  where  the  govern- 
ments believe  it  necessary  to  expend  something  on 
public  festivals,  little  is  done  except  in  the  capital : 
and  this  expenditure  has  never,  to  our  knowledge, 
made  an  article  in  a  budget.  It  would  have  made 
the  very  first  in  Grecian  cities,  at  least  in  times  of 
peace.  And  he  who  can  vividly  represent  those  states 
to  his  mind,  will  easily  perceive  how  many  things  must 
have  combined  to  increase  these  expenditures.  They 
were  prompted  not  by  a  mere  regard  for  the  honour 
of  the  state ;  jealousy  and  envy  of  the  other  cities 
were  of  influence  also.  And  still  more  is  to  be  at- 
tributed to  the  emulation  and  the  vanity  of  those,  who 
were  appointed  to  the  charge  of  the  expenditures. 
One  desired  to  surpass  another.  This  was  the  most 
reputable  manner  of  displaying  wealth.  And  although, 
as  far  as  we  know,  public  shows  were  not,  in  the  Gre- 
cian cities,  so  indispensably  the  means  of  gaining  the 

*  Consult  what  Aristotle  relates  of  Antiss  sus,  Op.  ii.  p.  390. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.     201 

favour  of  the  people  as  at  Rome,  (probably  because 
what  in  Rome  was  originally  voluntary,  had  ever  been 
considered  in  Greece  as  one  of  the  duties  and  burdens 
of  a  citizen,  which  did  not  merit  even  thanks,)  polit- 
cal  ends  may  have  often  been  of  influence  with  indi- 
viduals. 

The  Grecian  temples  had,  for  the  most  part,  pos- 
sessions of  their  own,  with  which  they  met  the  expen- 
ses incurred  in  the  service  of  the  god.  Their  pos- 
sessions consisted  partly  in  votive  presents,  which  had 
been  consecrated,  especially  where  the  divinities  of 
health  and  prophecy  were  adored,  by  the  hopes  or 
the  gratitude  of  the  suppliants  for  aid  and  counsel. 
We  know  from  several  examples,  especially  from  that 
of  the  Delphic  temple,  that  treasures  were  there  ac- 
cumulated, of  more  value  probably  than  those  of 
Loretto,  or  any  other  shrine  in  Europe.*  But  as 
they  were  sacred  to  the  gods,  and  did  not  come  into 
circulation,  they  were,  for  the  most  part,  but  unpro- 
ductive treasures,  possessing  no  other  value  than  what 
they  received  from  the  artist.  We  could  desire  more 
accurate  information  respecting  the  administration  of 
the  treasures  of  the  temples ;  for  it  seems  hardly 
credible,  that  the  great  stores  of  gold  and  silver, 
which  were  not  wrought,  should  have  been  left  entire- 
ly unemployed.  But  besides  these  treasures,  the 
temples  drew  a  large  part  of  their  revenue  from 
lands  ;f  which  were  not  unfrequently  consecrated  to 

*  The  consequences  with  which  the  profanation  of  the  Delphjc  treasures 
in  the  Sacred  war,  was  fraught  for  Greece,  may  be  learned  from  Athen.  vi. 
p.  231,  etc. 

t  Not  only  single  fields,  but  whole  districts  were  consecrated  to  the  gods. 
Beside  the  fields  of  Cirrha,  it  was  desired  to  consecrate  the  whole  of  Phocis 
to  Apollo  of  Delphi.  Diod.  xvi.  p.  245.  Brasidas  devoted  to  Pallas  the  ter- 

26 


202  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

their  service.  When  a  new  colonial  city  was  built,  it 
was  usual  to  devote  at  once  a  part  of  its  territory  to 
the  Gods.*  But  although  these  resources  were  suffi- 
cient for  the  support  of  the  temple,  the  priests,  the 
various  persons  employed  in  the  service  of  the  tem- 
ples, and  perhaps  the  daily  sacrifices,  yet  the  incense 
and  other  expenses,  the  celebration  of  the  festivals 
with  all  the  costs  connected  with  it,  still  continued  a 
burden  to  be  borne  by  the  public. 

Beside  the  expenses  which  were  required  by 
religion  and  the  honour  of  the  city,  there  were  others 
which  the  administration  made  necessary.  The 
magistrates,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word,  were 
without  salaries ;  but  the  state  needed  many  inferior 
servants  for  the  taxes,  the  police,  etc.  ;  and  these 
must  certainly  have  been  paid.f  Add  to  this  that 
several  of  the  duties  of  citizens  were  of  such  a  nature 
that  it  subsequently  became  necessary  to  pay  for  the 
performance  of  them,  though  it  had  not  been  done  at 
an  earlier  period.  To  this  class  belongs  the  duty  of 
attending  in  the  courts  ;  and  the  investigation  of  the 

ritory  of  Lecythus,  which  he  had  conquered.  Thucyd.  iv.  cap.  116.  It  is  a 
mistake  to  believe  that  the  consecrated  land  must  have  remained  uncultivat- 
ed. That  of  Cirrha  remained  so,  because  a  curse  rested  on  it.  Pausan.  p. 
894.  In  other  cases  it  was  used  sometimes  for  pasture  land,  especially  for 
the  sacred  herds  ;  Thucyd.  v.  63 ;  sometimes  it  was  tilled  ;  Thucyd.  iii.  68 ; 
but  for  the  most  part  let  for  a  rent.  Whoever  did  not  pay  the  rent, 
pirtufti;  <rai  rtpiim,  was  considered  destitute  of  honour.  Demosth.  in  Ma- 
cart.  Op.  ii.  p.  1069.  In  another  passage,  the  orator  complains  of  the  num- 
ber of  enemies  he  had  made  by  collecting  these  rents  when  he  was  Demarch. 
Or.  in  Eubulid.  Op.  ii.  p.  1318.  Two  contracts  for  similar  rents  have  been 
preserved.  Mazochi  Tabb.  Heracleens,  p.  146  etc.  and  257  etc. 

*  Plato  de  Legg.  iv.  p.  717. 

t  But  though  the  magistrates  were  not  paid,  there  were  certain  offices 
(especially  such  as  were  connected  with  the  care  of  any  funds),  which  could 
be  made  very  productive  to  those  who  held  them.  An  example  of  this  kind 
rs  found  in  Demosth.  in  iMid.  Op.  i.  p.  570. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OP  THE  GREEKS.     203 

Attic  state  will  prove  to  us,  that  the  number  of  those 
who  were  to  be  paid,  caused  this  expense  to  be  one  of 
the  heaviest. 

But  as  the  states  increased  in  power,  the  greatest 
expenditures  were  occasioned  by  the  military  and 
naval  establishments.  These  expenditures  were,  for 
the  most  part,  extraordinary  ;  since  the  state  in  times 
of  peace  had  no  standing  army,  and  no  mariners  to 
pay.  But  even  in  times  of  peace,  large  appropria- 
tions were  needed  for  the  support  of  the  magazines 
and  the  ships  ;  and  unfortunately  for  Greece,  the 
common  condition  of  the  more  powerful  states  came 
at  last  to  be  that  of  war  rather  than  of  peace.  If  wars 
under  any  circumstances  are  costly,  two  causes  con- 
tributed to  make  them  especially  so  in  Greece.  The 
first  was  the  custom  which  arose  of  employing  hired 
troops.  As  long  as  wars  were  carried  on  by  the 
militia  of  the  country,  which  required  no  pay,  the 
costs  of  them  were  not  very  considerable,  as  each  one 
served  at  his  own  expense.  But  when  hired  troops 
began  to  be  used,  every  thing  was  changed.  We 
shall  take  another  opportunity  of  showing  how  this 
custom,  by  which  the  whole  political  condition  of 
Greece  was  most  deeply  and  incurably  disordered, 
continued  to  gain  ground  from  the  first  moment  of  its 
introduction.  Hence  proceeded  the  pecuniary  em- 
barrassment of  so  many  Grecian  cities  during  the 
Peloponnesian  war.  The  second  leading  cause  is  to 
be  found  in  the  progress  of  naval  forces,  and  their  in- 
creasing importance  to  the  ruling  states.  The  build- 
ing, support,  and  fitting  out  of  squadrons,  which 
are  always  so  expensive,  must  have  been  doubly  so  to 
the  Greeks,  who  were  obliged  to  import  their  tim- 


204  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

her  and  many  other  articles  from  a  distance.  The 
expense  became  still  greater,  when  the  cities  began  to 
outbid  each  other  in  the  pay  of  their  mariners  :  which 
they  did,  as  soon  as  the  Spartans  were  enabled  by 
the  Persian  supplies  to  cope  in  this  matter  with  their 
rivals.*  Need  we  be  astonished,  then,  at  finding 
under  such  circumstances,  that  the  trierarchies,  or 
contributions  of  the  rich  towards  the  fitting  out  of  the 
gallies,'  were  the  most  oppressive  of  all  the  public 
burdens?f 

Different,  therefore,  as  was  the  list  of  public 
expenses  from  that  of  modern  states,  we  still  find 
points  of  agreement.  We  have  now  to  inquire,  What 
were  the  sources  of  the  public  revenue  ?  What  in 
particular  was  the  system  of  taxation  ? 

There  is  but  one  state  in  Greece,  that  of  Athens, 
respecting  which,  any  accurate  information  on  this 
subject  has  been  preserved.  It  would  be  too  hasty 
an  inference  to  say,  that  what  was  usual  in  that  city 
was  usual  in  the  others.  But  though  the  particular 
regulations  may  have  been  very  different,  a  great 
general  similarity  must  certainly  have  prevailed  ;  and 
it  is  that,  which  we  are  now  to  consider.  Such  a 
resemblance  was  a  natural  consequence  of  the  great 
preponderating  power  and  political  influence  of  Ath- 
ens. In  the  states  which  were  its  allies,  how  much 
must  necessarily  have  been  regulated  by  its  example  ! 

*  This  is  known  to  have  been  done  during  the  Peloponnesian  war  as  well 
by  the  Corinthians,  Thucyd.  i.  31,  as  by  Sparta,  which  state  received  of  the 
Persians  more  than  5000  talents  (nearly  five  million  dollars)  for  that  pur- 
pose. Isocrat.  de  Pace,  Op.  p.  179. 

t  We  do  not  find  it  mentioned,  that  the  trierarchies,  which  were  common 
in  Athens,  were  usual  in  the  other  maritime  cities ;  but  the  rich  doubtless 
bore  the  burden  of  fitting  out  the  ships.  See,  respecting  Corinth,  Thucyd.  1.  c. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.     205 

And  the  little  information  which  we  are  able  to  col- 
lect respecting  their  revenues,  appears  to  prove  the 
fact  beyond  a  doubt. 

It  is  to  Aristotle  once  more,  that  we  owe  a  general 
view  of  this  subject.*  After  classifying  the  sources 
of  revenue  in  monarchies,  with  respect  to  the  general 
no  less  than  the  provincial  administration,f  he  con- 
tinues;  "The  third  kind  of  administration,  is  that  of 
free  states.  For  them,  the  principal  source  of  rev- 
enue is  from  the  produce  of  their  own  soil ;  the 
second  from  merchandise  and  the  markets ;  the  third 
from  the  contributions  paid  by  the  citizens  in  turn.?'J 
When  we  learn,  that  these  last  were  a  sort  of  property 
tax  for  the  richer  class,  and  that  the  second  could 
have  been  nothing  but  duties  on  articles  of  consump- 
tion, we  perceive  at  once,  what  we  are  soon  to  prove, 
that  in  the  Grecian  states,  our  direct  and  indirect 
taxes  were  known  and  introduced,  though  in  techni- 
cal language  the  distinction  was  differently  made. 
The  subject  deserves  to  be  treated  with  closer  at- 
tention. 

In  the  political  economy  of  the  moderns,  the  taxes 
on  lands  and  houses  are  considered  the  most  impor- 
tant of  all  direct  taxes.  How  far  had  the  Greeks 

*  Aristot.  de  Re  Familiar!,  ii.  1.  Is  there  no  one  of  our  scholars  who  will 
take  notice  of  this  entirely  neglected,  but  highly  instructive  treatise  of  the 
Stagirite  ? 

f'H  p>et(tt\iKn  and  'n  far^u-nx*.  When  the  Greeks  spoke  of  an  empire,  they 
always  had  in  mind  the  empire  of  Persia. 

|  Tg/Tflv  $£,  T«V  TsX/T/fcflv.  T«i/r»f  Si  xgetTifrv  /t*lv  trgofoba;,  ft  ixo  T«V  Hint  t» 
Trt  %&!>«•  •yiyoftitun,  i7r«  ««•«  tftirogiia*  *«i  J/  iyutuv,  ttrct  vi  iiro  rut  lyx.ux.l.iuv. 
It  is  known  from  the  orators,  that  these  last  are  the  burdens  borne  in  turn  by 
the  rich,  ^urau^yiai.  Demostb.  in  Leptin.  Op.  i.  p.  463.  If  the  words  S/iy»»«» 
are  correct,  the  public  games  and  assemblies  are  intended,  with  which  fairs 
were  commonly  connected ;  otherwise  it  would  be  natural  to  conjecture 
Ayt^uv  instead  of  «y»y«v.  The  sense  remains  the  same. 


206  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

the  one  and  the  other?  They  certainly  were  ac- 
quainted with  both.  "  In  Menda,"  says  Aristotle, 
"  the  common  expenses  of  the  administration  are  paid 
from  the  revenue  derived  from  the  harbours  and 
duties  ;  the  taxes,  on  the  contrary,  on  land  and  houses 
are  regularly  assessed :  but  they  are  collected  from 
those  who  are  bound  to  pay  them,  only  in  times  of 
a  great  want  of  money."*  This  example  shows  very 
clearly,  that  the  Greeks  knew  the  practical  differ- 
ence between  direct  and  indirect  taxes ;  but  it  still 
remains  doubtful,  whether  the  tax  on  the  soil  was  a 
land  tax  in  the  modern  sense,  according  to  its  square 
contents  and  quality  ;  or  whether  it  was  a  tax  on  the 
raw  produce.  The  first  is  not  probable.  We  hear 
nothing  of  a  register  of  landed  estates  in  Greece ; 
though  there  existed  such  an  one  in  the  great  empire 
of  Persia.f  Where  the  taxes  are  treated  of,  the  ex- 
pressions appear  rather  to  indicate,  that  'a  proportion 
of  the  produce  was  paid.  It  was  commonly  tithes, 
which  were  taken  of  fruits  and  of  cattle  ;  as  Aristotle 
expressly  mentions  in  the  passages  first  cited.f  In 
what  degree  these  taxes  were  usual  in  the  Grecian 
cities,  is  no  where  expressly  related  ;  nor  do  we 
know  whether  they  were  levied  on  certain  estates,  or 
on  all  lands.  That  they  were  very  common,  is  hardly 
doubtful,  since  the  remark  of  Aristotle  is  a  general 
one. 

Poll  taxes  were  less  frequently  levied  on  the 
citizens  (though  we  would  not  assert,  that  they  did 
not  in  any  degree  exist  with  respect  to  them),  than  on 

*  Aristot.  de  Re  Famil.    Op.  ii.  393.     Menda  was  a  Grecian  city  on  (he 
coast  of  Macedonia,  not  far  from  Potidsa.        f  Heeren's  Ideen,  B.  ii.  S.  673. 
I  Compare  De  Re  Famil.  ii.  1. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.  207 

the  inquilini  or  resident  foreigners.  These  formed 
in  most  of  the  Grecian  cities  a  numerous  class  of 
inhabitants,  and  were  obliged  to  pay  for  protection,  a 
sum*  which  was  sometimes  a  poll  tax,  and  sometimes 
an  impost  on  property.  We  know  with  certainty, 
that  such  sums  were  paid  by  the  foreigners  at 
Athens. 

However  much  the  practical  politician  may  be 
excited  by  increasing  wants,  to  exert  his  inventive 
powers,  the  character  of  the  state  settles  in  a  certain 
measure  the  kinds  of  taxes.  Where  a  community  imposes 
its  own  taxes,  the  direct  taxes,  and  among  them  those  on 
property,  will  have  the  first  rank.  That  each  citizen, 
or  rather,  that  the  richer  citizens  (for  the  rule  does 
not  of  course  apply  to  the  poorer  classes)  should 
share  in  the  public  burdens  in  proportion  to  their 
means,  is  so  naturul  an  idea,  that  it  cannot  but  occur 
of  itself.  But  when  we  consider  the  taxes  on  proper- 
ty as  forming  the  chief  division,  we  must  premise  two 
observations  in  connexion  with  that  remark. 

First :  The  taxes  on  property  were  not  so  regular, 
that  they  were  paid  from  year  to  year  according  to 
the  same  fixed  measure.  The  necessary  sums  were 
rather  voted,  as  circumstances  required  ;  which  also 
decided  the  degree  of  rigour,  with  which  they 
were  collected.  Of  this  we  have  proof  in  very  many 
examples  in  Demosthenes  and  others,  f  In  times  of 
peace,  whole  years  might  pass  away,  in  which  no  such 
taxes  were  required  to  be  paid  ;  while  in  others  they 

*T«  fttvaixiov.  The  regulations  respecting  this,  and  its  amount,  may  be 
found  in  Harpocration,  h.  v. 

t  They  were  called  in  Athens  the  '.la<f^»1.  No  one  will  doubt,  that  they 
were  introduced  into  other  cities,  though  under  different  names. 


208  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

increased  so  much,  that  Isocrates  could  say,  it  was 
was  almost  better  to  be  a  poor  man  than  a  rich  one ; 
because  the  poor  were  not  exposed  to  them.* 

Secondly  :  There  were  certain  kinds  of  expenses, 
which  were  not  estimated  at  a  fixed  amount,  but  were 
too  considerable  to  be  borne  by  any  but  the  opulent ; 
we  mean  those  offices  which  each  citizen  was  obliged 
to  perform  in  his  turn,  and  at  his  own  expense, 
(Ag;rot>£y/a/).t  To  this  class  belonged  partly  the 
charge  of  the  public  festivals  and  shows,  banquets 
and  bands  of  music  connected  with  them  ;  and  partly, 
at  least  in  Athens,  and  probably  in  other  maritime 
towns,  the  fitting  out  of  the  gallies.  The  first  class 
of  these  expenses,  was  by  its  nature  a  permanent  one; 
and  the  other  was  almost,  though  not  perfectly  so. 
They  were  borne  by  the  citizens  in  rotation  ;  and 
those  who  were  free  one  year,  were  obliged  to  defray 
them  the  next.  But  they,  especially  the  first,  were 
the  more  oppressive,  as  they  were  not  fixed  at  any 
certain  amount;  but  depended  not  merely  on  the 
wants  of  the  state,  but  the  pride  of  him  who  supplied 
them. 

Taxes  on  property  are  attended  with  one  great 
difficulty,  that  they  cannot  be  apportioned  out  without 
a  knowledge  of  the  fortunes  of  each  contributor.  But 
they  depend  also  more  than  any  other  on  correctness 
of  moral  sentiment  and  on  public  spirit.  Where 
these  exist,  (and  they  can  no  where  more  prevail, 
than  in  such  civil  communities  as  the  Grecian  states,) 
there  is  no  need  of  returns  on  the  part  of  those  who 

*Isocrat.  de  Pace.  Op.  p.  185. 

t  la  the  broadest  seuse ;  in  so  far  as  the  word  comprehends  not  only  the 
fitting  out  of  the  ships  (*{<»{*{#<««),  but  also  the  charge  of  the  chorus  (%»£t- 
yiou),  and  the  gymnastic  games 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.      209 

are  to  be  taxed,  nor  of  any  inquisition  on  the  part  of 
the  state.  Confidence  is  reposed  in  the  conscience  of 
the  contributor ;  and  examples  may  be  found  in 
history,  of  states  in  which  even  a  suspicion  of  any 
insincerity  was  almost  unheard  of.*  In  the  Grecian 
cities,  at  least  in  Athens,  very  severe  measures  were 
in  the  later  periods  made  use  of  against  those,  who 
were  suspected  of  concealing  the  true  state  of  their 
fortunes,  or  whom  it  was  desired  to  vex  in  that  man- 
ner. They  could  be  compelled  to  exchange  their 
property  for  the  sum  at  which  they  had  estimated 
it.f  But  in  better  times,  such  measures,  though 
perhaps  permitted,  seem  never  to  have  been  usual. 
A  division  was  made  into  classes  according  to  the 
income;  such  as  had  been  established  in  Athens,  by 
the  regulations  of  Solon.  These  classes  presupposed 
an  estimate  of  property  ;$  but  whether  this  was  made 
in  the  Grecian  cities  as  accurately  as  the  census  of 
the  Romans,  is  a  question  which  we  must  leave  un- 
decided. $ 

The  indirect  taxes,  by  which  we  mean  the  duties 
paid  on  the  importation  and  exportation  of  articles, 

*  As  in  several  of  the  late  German  imperial  towns.  The  author  is  acquainted 
with  one,  in  which  the  contributions  were  thrown  into  a  box,  unexamined  ; 
and  yet  the  amount  of  the  whole  was  previously  known,  with  almost  perfect 
exactness. 

t  The  itvntairiis.  See, on  this  subject,  the  speech  of  Isocrates,Op.  p.  312,  etc. 

t  riftrtftx,  Demosth.  in  Aphob.  Orat.  i.  Op.  ii.  p.  3,  etc. 

§  In  some  of  the  cities,  great  accuracy  seems  to  have  prevailed  in  this 
business.  Thus  in  Chios,  all  private  debts  were  entered  in  a  public  book,  so 
that  it  might  be  known,  what  capital  was  lent  out.  Aristot.  Op.  ii.  p.  390. 
In  the  Athenian  colony  Potidaea,  in  a  time  of  war,  when  money  was  wanting, 
every  citizen  was  obliged  to  specify  his  property  with  exactness,  and  the  con 
tributions  (itf<fe^ai)  vere  appoitioned  out  accordingly.  He  who  possessed  no 
property,  XT*/**  ovfa,  paid  a  poll  tax  ;  his  person  being  reckoned  as  a  capital 
of  two  minae  (about  thirty  dollars),  he  paid  the  tax  due  on  such  a  sum. 
Aristot.  I.  c. 

27 


210  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

as  also  on  their  consumption,  were  probably  as  com- 
mon in  the  Grecian  cities,  as  those  above  mentioned. 
The  instance  of  the  city  Menda,  which  we  have  al- 
ready cited,  shows  that  they  were  preferred,  at  least 
in  some  instances  to  the  direct  taxes.  Much  that 
related  to  them,  was  decided  by  the  situation  and 
chief  employment  of  the  cities.  The  duties  were 
naturally  a  much  more  productive  source  of  revenue 
to  the  maritime  and  commercial  towns,  than  to  the 
cities  of  the  interior.  But  where  these  taxes  were 
introduced,  they  were  a  constant  source  of  income  ; 
while  the  taxes  on  property  were  each  time  imposed 
anew.  From  this  it  naturally  resulted,  that  they 
were  chiefly  destined  to  meet  the  usual  expenditures. 
Our  knowledge  of  the  organization  of  the  Grecian 
customs,  is  very  imperfect.  Yet  we  cannot  doubt, 
that  duties  were  almost  universally  common.  But 
they  were  most  probably  limited  to  the  seaports  and 
harbours ;  in  connexion  with  these,  they  are  almost 
always  mentioned  ;*  I  know  of  no  instance  of  customs 
in  the  interior.  They  were,  according  to  Aristotle, 
levied  on  imported  and  exported  articles. f  In 
Athens,  the  customs  are  frequently  mentioned  by  the 
orators  ;  in  Thessaly  they  formed  the  chief  source  of 
the  revenue  ;J  and  they  were  not  of  less  moment  in 
Macedonia.^  When  the  Athenians  became  the  mas- 
ters of  the  JEgean  sea,  they  appropriated  to  them- 
selves, in  all  subject  islands,  the  collecting  of  the 

*  Hence  the  phrase  >//*«>«*  xa.oTtvtta.t.  to  collect  the  customs  in  the  harbours. 
Demosthen.  i.  15. 

t  AristOt.  l.C.      -rat  ilffa-yuyifia.  xai  -TO.  l^tt.'yu'yifta. 

|  Demosth.  1.  c. 

§They  were  commonly  rented  out  in  that  country  for  twenty  talents; 
which  sura  Callistratus  knew  how  to  double.    Aristot.  Op.  ii.  p.  393. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.  211 

customs,  instead  of  the  tribute  which  had  before  been 
usual.*  The  same  was  done  with  the  very  produc- 
tive customs  of  Byzantium,  which  all  the  commerce 
to  the  Black  sea  was  obliged  to  discharge,-)-  just  as 
the  commerce  to  the  East  sea  has  hitherto  been  oblig- 
ed to  pay  a  tribute  in  the  Sound.  This  comparison  is 
the  more  just,  as  the  duties  of  Byzantium,  no  less  than 
those  in  the  Sound,  have  been  the  occasion  even  of  a 
war.J 

These  examples,  of  which  the  number  could  easily 
be  increased,  are  quite  sufficient  to  prove,  that  duties 
were  very  generally  exacted  in  the  seaports.  The  prin- 
ciple, according  to  which  the  customs  were  regulated, 
had  nothing  in  view  but  the  increase  of  the  public 
revenue ;  and  no  design  was  connected  with  them,  of 
gaining  influence  on  the  encouragement  and  direction 
of  domestic  industry.  At  least  we  have  never  been 
able  to  find  any  hint  to  that  effect.  But  the  tariff 
seems  to  have  been  very  different  in  the  several  cities, 
and  for  the  different  articles  of  merchandise.  At 
Byzantium,  the  duty  was  ten  per  cent,  on  the  value 
of  the  wares. $  The  Athenians,  on  the  contrary,  when 
they  imposed  duties  in  the  harbours  of  their  allies 
during  the  Peloponnesian  war,  exacted  only  five  per 
cent.  ||  In  Athens  itself,  there  were,  at  least  in  the 
time  of  Demosthenes,  several  articles  which  paid  a 
duty  of  but  two  per  cent. IT  To  this  class  belonged 
all  corn  introduced  into  Athens  ;**  and  several  other 

*  Thucyd.  iv.  28.  t  Demosth.  Op.  i.  p.  475. 

|  Namely  between  Byzantium  and  Rhodes.        §  Demosth.  Op.  1.  p.  475. 
||  Thucyd.  viii.  28. 

IT  This  is  the  iritTnawTaXoyo?  a.vtiy%a.qm,  iht  tariff  of  the  fiftieth  penny.    De- 
mosth. in  Mid.  Op.  i.  p.  558. 

**  Demosth.  in  Neaer.  Op.  ii.  p.  1353. 


212  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

objects,  such  as  fine  woollen  garments  and  vessels  of 
silver.* 

We  distinguish  in  our  system  of  finances  between 
duties  on  importation  and  exportation,  and  taxes  on 
domestic  consumption.!  It  may  be  asked,  if  this 
was  also  the  case  in  Greece  ?  I  do  not  doubt  that  it 
was ;  but  in  the  Grecian  cities,  as  in  Rome  and  perhaps 
in  the  whole  of  the  ancient  world,  these  taxes  were  im- 
posed in  but  one  very  simple  form.  They  were  con- 
nected with  the  markets.  Whatever  was  there  offered 
for  sale,  paid  a  duty  ;  and  hence  this  duty  is  men- 
tioned only  with  reference  to  the  markets.^  And  I 
find  no  proof,  that  the  taxes  on  consumption  received 
in  any  ancient  state  the  same  extent,  which  they  have 
acquired  in  several  modern  countries. $ 

Beside  the  taxes  already  enumerated,  there  were 
other  particular  ones  on  various  articles  of  luxury. 
Thus  in  Ephesus,  a  tax  was  paid  for  wearing  gold 
on  the  clothes ;  and  in  Lycia,  for  wearing  false  hair.|| 
Examples  are  preserved  by  Aristotle,  where,  in  cases 
of  necessity,  single  cities  adopted  various  extraordi- 
nary measures,  such  as  the  sale  of  the  public  estates, If 
the  sale  of  the  privilege  of  citizenship,  taxes  on  sev- 


*Demosth.  in  Mid.  Op.  i.p.  568,  enumerates  several. 

t  Such  as  the  excise,  licenses,  etc. 

J  In  Aristot.  ii.  p.  388.     »  ««•«  rin  *«*•«  yu'»  « 
Hence  the  expression  ;  ran  iyagiy  ta^rtvtrtm  lo  collect  the  revenue  from  the 
markets.    Demosth.  Olynth.  i.  Op.  i.  p.  15. 

§  In  Babylon,  there  existed  an  antiquated  law  which  was  renewed  by  the 
governor  appointed  by  Alexander,  and  which  required  that  a  tithe  should  be 
paid  of  every  thing  brought  into  the  city.  Aristot.  Op.  ii.  p.  395. 

||  Aristot.  (Econ.  ii.  Op.  ii.  p.  385. 

IT  Aristot.  1.  c.  p.  389.  That  which  follows  is  also  related  by  him  in  the 
same  place. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.  213 

eral  professions  and  employments,*  as  of  soothsayers 
and  quacks,  and  monopolies,  of  which  the  state  pos- 
sessed itself  for  a  season. 

In  all  the  Grecian  cities,  the  indirect  taxes,  espe- 
cially the  duties,  were  most  probably  farmed.  The 
custom  of  farming  the  revenue  prevailed  in  a  much 
greater  degree  in  several  of  the  monarchical  states  of 
antiquity  ;  in  the  Grecian  republics,  it  seems  to  have 
been  restricted  to  the  indirect  taxes.  It  is  generally 
known,  that  in  Athens  the  duties  were  farmed ;  but 
the  same  was  the  case  in  Byzantium,  in  Macedonia, 
and  in  other  places,  f  Demosthenes  distinguishes 
three  classes  of  persons  who  were  interested  in  this 
transaction;  those  who  rented  this  branch  of  the 
revenue ;  their  bondsmen ;  and  the  inspectors  and 
receivers.!  It  would  be  superfluous  to  speak  of  the 
great  evils  of  this  arrangement ;  but  has  it  not  been 
preserved  by  much  larger  states  in  modern  Europe? 

One  important  question  still  remains :  In  the 
Grecian  cities,  who  had  the  right  of  fixing  the  taxes  ? 
The  political  science  of  the  moderns  has  regarded  it 
as  one  of  the  most  important  points,  as  the  peculiar 
characteristic  of  a  free  constitution,  that  the  govern- 
ment should  not  be  permitted  to  impose  taxes  without 
the  consent  of  the  people;  given  directly,  or  by  con- 
sent of  its  deputies.  In  most  of  the  ancient  republics, 
the  same  custom  probably  prevailed  ;  yet  it  is  remark  - 

*A  general  income  tax  of  ten  per  cent,  on  all  employments,  was  laid 
by  king  Tachus  in  Egypt,  at  the  instance  of  Chabrias.  Aristot.  1.  c.  p.  394. 
Though  executed  in  Egypt,  the  idea  was  that  of  a  Greek ;  and  Pitt  must 
resign  his  claim  to  the  invention  of  the  Income  tax. 

t  See  the  passages  cited  above,  which  prove  this. 

t  Demosth.  Op.  i.  p.  745.  ri^s  n  ^iaftt»es,  n  lyyunsi^i^,  5  ix*.i<yuv. 
Those  who  rented  the  taxes  of  the  state,  were  of  course  obliged  to  procure 
safe  bondsmei. 


214  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

able  that  no  particular  value  was  ever  set  upon  this 
privilege ;  and  much  less  was  it  ever  considered  ' 
a  criterion  of  political  liberty.  The  whole  system  of 
taxation,  we  have  already  remarked,  was  not  viewed 
from  the  same  elevated  point  which  is  now  taken ; 
nor  can  this  principle  be  fully  developed,  except  where 
the  representative  system  is  introduced.  But  prop- 
erly speaking,  the  whole  subject  was  considered  by 
the  Greeks  from  a  very  different  side.  Their  magis- 
trates were  bound  to  acknowledge  the  obligation  of 
laying  their  accounts  before  the  people.  This  was 
the  characteristic  of  freedom.*  Where  this  right  is 
preserved  by  the  people,  it  is  of  much  less  importance 
by  whom  the  taxes  are  imposed. 

But  this  question  hardly  admits  of  a  general 
answer  in  the  Grecian  cities.  It  cannot  be  doubted 
that  the  difference  of  constitutions  produced  differen- 
ces in  this  matter ;  but  if  from  the  want  of  documents 
this  is  only  a  conjecture,  it  is  on  the  other  hand  certain, 
that  the  difference  of  the  taxes  must  have  produced 
such  a  variety. 

The  regular  and  abiding  taxes  were  fixed  by 
laws ;  which  in  part  were  expressly  called  ancient 
laws.f  The  sum  which  was  allotted  in  Athens  for  the 
annual  expense  of  the  public  sacrifices,  was  fixed  by 
the  laws  of  Solon  at  six  talents.J  For  this  purpose, 
no  other  appropriations  were  needed.  The  tariffs  of 
the  duties  and  taxes  on  consumption  were  in  like 
manner  established  laws,  which,  as  their  very  names 
indicate,^  were  doubtless  granted  by  the  people  ;  who 

*  See  above,  page  176.  t  Demosth.   Op.  i.  p.  462. 

J  See  Lysias  in  Nicomacb.  Or.  Gr.  v.  p.  856. 
Demosth.  i.  p.  732. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.  215 

of  course  had  the  right  of  making  alterations  in  them. 
Those  public  charges,  which  were  borne  in  turn, 
the  trierarchies  and  the  providing  of  the  Chorus, 
were  also  established  by  ancient  laws  ;*  although 
these  offices,  especially  the  first,  were,  from  their 
very  nature,  much  influenced  by  the  circumstances  of 
the  times ;  and  hence  they  underwent  greater  and 
more  frequent  changes  than  any  other  imposts.  That 
these  regulations  and  their  changes  could  not  be 
made  without  the  consent  of  the  people,  will  not  be 
doubted  by  any  one,  who  knows  that  every  thing 
which  the  Greeks  called  a  law,  »op,of9  could  proceed 
from  no  other  fountain. 

But  what  were  the  regulations  respecting  those 
extraordinary  imposts,  which  were  hardly  less  than 
permanent,  those  taxes  on  property,  which  we  com- 
prehend under  the  name  of  tribute  (e'«r<pogoti)?  That 
these  should  have  been  fixed  exclusively  by  the  peo- 
ple, seems  so  natural  in  states  where  the  highest 
authority  is  possessed  by  a  popular  assembly,  that  it 
may  be  thought  superfluous  to  suggest  this  question. 
Yet  we  know  that  it  was  not  so  in  Rome ;  where  the 
taxes  were  fixed,  not  by  the  people,  but  solely  by  the 
senate.  But  in  Athens,  as  we  may  learn  from  any  one 
of  the  political  orations  of  Demosthenes,  the  taxes 
needed  always  to  be  confirmed  by  the  people.  It 
would  be  too  hasty  to  infer  from  Athens,  that  the  same 
was  true  of  all  the  other  Grecian  states.  But  where- 
ever  the  financial  regulations  of  the  other  states  are 
mentioned  (unless  they  were  in  subjection  to  a  ty- 

*  Demosth.  i.  p.  462. 


216  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

rant*),  it  is  always  done  in  expressions  which 
authorize  the  conclusion,  that  the  consent  of  the 
people  or  the  assembly  of  the  citizens  was  neces- 
sary.f 

So  much  the  greater  variety  seems  to  have  pre- 
vailed in  the  administration  of  the  public  revenue,  not 
only  in  the  several  states,  but  also  at  different  periods 
in  the  same  state.  Those  places  and  offices  which 
were  connected  with  that  administration,  were  natu- 
rally the  objects  of  the  greatest  competition  ;  and  this 
alone  would  be  sufficient  to  explain  the  changes  which 
were  made.  But  must  not  the  difference  of  the  con- 
stitutions have  exercised  its  influence  ?  In  states,  of 
which  certain  families,  distinguished  for  their  wealth 
and  descent,  had  made  themselves  the  leaders,  what 
could  be  expected,  but  that  they  should  obtain  the 
management  of  the  public  money  ?  In  the  prin- 
cipal cities  of  Greece,  the  most  remarkable  difference 
is  perceptible.  At  Athens,  the  council  of  five  hun- 
dred had  the  care  of  the  public  money ;  in  Sparta, 
this  had  been  secured  by  the  Ephori.  A  great  dif- 
ference may  be  supposed  to  have  prevailed  in  the 
other  Grecian  cities ;  certainly  with  respect  to  the 
persons  who  held  the  offices  of  collectors  and  ac- 
countants. But  we  have  almost  no  historical  infor- 
mation respecting  any  place  but  Athens. 

*  Where  tyrants  had  possessed  themselves  of  the  government,  they  im- 
posed taxes  at  their  own  pleasure,  as  they  were  not  vrututu  ;  they  also 
adopted  various  artifices  to  increase  their  revenue,  such  as  debasing  the 
coin,  &.c.  of  which  Aristotle,  (Econ.  L.  ii,  has  preserved  various  examples. 
But  where  they  desired  to  preserve  an  appearance  of  decency,  as  Dionysius 
I.  in  Syracuse,  who  in  other  respects  took  so  many  liberties,  this  matter  was 
laid  by  them  before  the  ixxAWa.  Aristot.  1.  c. 

t  In  the  examples  which  Aristot.  1.  c.  cites  of  Clazomene,  Potidaea,  and 
other  places,  his  phrase  is  i^nf/ror*,  or  sometime?  »«/M«  linn,  which,  it  Is 
well  known,  can  be  understood  only  of  the  decrees  of  the  people. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  GREEKS.  217 

Of  all  forms  of  government,  those  of  free  cities 
are  perhaps  the  least  adapted  to  the  developing  of 
an  artificial  system  of  finances.  For  in  them  the 
wants,  and  the  means  of  satisfying  those  wants,  are 
commonly  very  simple.  Changes  are  difficult;  for 
they  presuppose  the  consent  of  the  commonalty. 
They  who  propose  them,  can  hardly  expect  thanks ; 
but  rather  hatred,  and  even  persecution.  Hence 
ancient  usage  is  preserved  as  much  as  possible  ;  and 
when  extraordinary  wants  occur,  recourse  is  had 
to  extraordinary  measures,  concerted  for  the  moment, 
rather  than  to  any  change  in  the  existing  institutions. 
It  is  different  in  extensive  monarchies,  where  every 
thing  moves  more  firmly  and  more  regularly  ;  and 
though  their  practice  is  not  so  much  founded  on  scien- 
tific views  as  on  certain  maxims,  still  it  is  in  them, 
that  an  artificial  system  of  finances  can  be  formed. 
The  question,  Which  is  best  for  the  nations?  may  be 
answered  by  history.  But  when  our  modern  theo- 
rists pretend  to  look  with  contempt  on  Greece,  be- 
cause she  knew  nothing  of  their  doctrines,  they  should 
at  least  remember,  that  Greece  was  so  happy  as  to 
have  much  less  need  of  them.  Where  nature  has 
made  the  support  of  life  sufficiently  easy,  where  there 
are  fewer  wants  to  be  satisfied,  the  arts  of  industry, 
which  after  all  have  regard  only  to  our  physical  being, 
stand  on  a  lower  scale.  The  inhabitant  of  Otaheite 
can  be  happy  without  the  system  of  Adam  Smith ; 
and  though  the  division  of  labour  could  secure  greater 
gain  to  those  islanders,  they  would  hardly  be  made 
more  contented,  because  they  stand  less  in  need  of 
gain.  But  even  in  those  modern  countries,  where  the 
28 


218  CHAPTER  TENTH. 

theories  of  political  economy  have  been  refined  with 
the  utmost  acuteness, — how  much  notice  is  taken  of 
them  by  practical  statesmen  ?  And  who  are  in  this 
case  to  be  censured  ?  The  theorists,  or  the  states- 
men,— or  both  ? 


JUDICIAL  INSTITUTIONS.  219 


CHAPTER  ELEVENTH. 


THE  JUDICIAL  INSTITUTIONS. 

UNLIKE  the  regulations  of  our  modern  states,  the 
judiciary  department  did  not  form  in  Greece  a  dis- 
tinct, independent  branch  of  the  constitution.  On  the 
contrary,  it  was  so  intimately  connected  with  the  rest, 
that  it  can  with  difficulty  be  made  a  separate  object 
of  investigation.  Hardly  any  subject  in  Grecian  anti- 
quities is  so  intricate,  or  so  difficult  of  explanation  ; 
and  yet  without  a  knowledge  of  it,  no  correct  view  of 
the  ancient  states  can  possibly  be  formed.  Our  pres- 
ent object  is,  to  develope  the  general  character  of 
the  judicial  institutions,  without  entering  into  partic- 
ulars respecting  the  organization  of  the  Attic  courts. 
All  that  we  have  to  say  upon  this  subject,  will  find  a 
place  in  our  inquiries  concerning  that  state. 

The  want  of  accounts  is  the  chief  but  not  the 
only  source  of  the  difficulty,  which  attends  this  inves- 
tigation with  respect  to  every  state  but  Athens. 
From  the  want  of  uniformity,  as  well  as  the  foreign 
character  of  many  of  the  regulations,  it  would  be 
arduous  to  take  a  general  survey  of  the  subject,  even 
if  the  historical  documents  were  abundant.  To  gain 
a  correct  view  of  it,  some  attention  must  be  paid  to  its 
history. 

The  judicial  institutions  of  the  Greeks,  were  the 
creation  of  time  and  circumstances.  The  form,  there- 


220  CHAPTER  ELEVENTH. 

fore,  which  they  eventually  assumed,  could  not  well 
correspond  to  the  requisitions  of  a  theory.  We  are 
forced  to  content  ourselves  on  many  points  with  say- 
ing that  it  was  so ;  without  being  able  to  give  any 
satisfactory  reasons  why  it  was  so. 

The  judicial  institutions  of  a  nation  proceed  from 
very  simple  beginnings.  Where  they  are  left  to  be 
developed  by  circumstances  and  the  necessities  of  the 
times,  they  cannot  but  become  more  and  more  intri- 
cate ;  since  with  the  progress  of  culture,  new  relations 
arise,  both  at  home  and  with  foreign  countries.  In 
the  heroic  age,  kings  sat  on  the  tribunals  of  justice, 
though  even  then  arbitrators  were  not  unusual.*  There 
existed  at  that  time  no  written  laws  ;  questions  were 
decided  by  prescription,  and  good  common  sense, 
directed  by  a  love  of  justice. 

When  nations  begin  to  emerge  from  the  rude  con- 
dition of  savages,  the  first  necessity  which  is  felt,  is 
that  of  personal  security,  and  next  the  security  of 
property.  National  legislation  has  always  commenced 
with  the  criminal  code  and  the  police  laws  ;  the  rights 
of  citizens  were  defined  more  slowly,  and  at  a  later 
period  ;  because  it  was  not  sooner  necessary.  The 
oldest  courts  of  justice  were  established  very  early, 
probably  in  the  times  of  the  kings.  Their  immediate 
object  was  to  pass  judgment  on  the  crime  of  murder 
and  other  heinous  offences.  This  was  the  case  with 
the  Areopagus,  the  most  ancient  court  with  which 
the  Greeks  were  acquainted  ;  and  others  were  of 
almost  as  great  an  age. 

The  royal  governments  passed  away ;    and   the 
popular  assemblies   took  their  place.     The  existing 

*  See  above,  p.  90. 


JUDICIAL  INSTITUTIONS.  221 

courts  of  justice  were  then  by  no  means  abolished ; 
although  in  the  progress  of  time,  and  amidst  the  rev- 
olutions in  the  forms  of  government,  they  could  not 
but  undergo  various  modifications. 

In  the  states  of  modern  Europe,  the  form  of  the 
judicial  institutions  was  in  a  great  measure  the  result 
of  the  form  of  the  feudal.  In  the  latter  there  were 
different  degrees  of  fealty  and  submission  ;  and  hence 
arose  the  principle,  that  no  man  can  be  tried  by 
any  but  his  peers.  Thus  a  difference  in  the  courts 
was  necessarily  produced.  The  immediate  vassal  of 
the  crown  recognised  only  those  for  his  judges,  who 
stood  in  the  same  rank  with  himself,  and  owed  fealty 
to  the  same  master.  The  freeman  and  the  villain 
could  not  stand  before  the  same  tribunal. 

The  same  principle,  that  a  man  must  be  tried  by 
his  peers,  prevailed  among  the  Greeks.  But  its  ap- 
plication must  have  produced  very  different  results. 
The  community  consisted  of  citizens,  who  either  were 
or  claimed  to  be  equal.  It  discussed  all  affairs  re- 
lating to  itself,  and  hence  actions  at  law  among  the 
rest.  Thus  the  common  assembly  performed  the 
office  of  judges ;  and  the  foundation  of  the  popular 
courts  of  justice  was  laid.  A  political  notion  now 
prevailed,  a  notion  never  adopted  in  our  modern  con- 
stitutions ;  that  it  was  essential  for  a  citizen  to  take 
a  part  in  the  administration  of  justice.  Even  in  those 
of  our  modern  states  which  in  so  many  things  resem- 
ble the  Grecian,  the  German  imperial  cities,  this  idea 
could  never  have  been  suggested  and  applied.  They 
had  adopted  the  laws  of  an  ancient  nation,  written  in 
an  ancient  language  ;  and  to  understand  them,  much 
learning  was  required,  of  which  not  every  one  could 


222  CHAPTER  ELEVENTH. 

be  possessed.  It  was  not  so  in  Greece.  The  laws 
were  in  the  language  of  the  country ;  and  although 
their  number  gradually  increased,  they  were  still 
accessible  to  all.  Neither  was  it  necessary  to  retain 
them  in  the  memory,  and  have  them  always  present  to 
the  mind.  The  orator  during  his  speech,  had  a  read- 
er at  his  side  with  a  copy  of  them.  Whenever  he 
referred  to  any  law,  it  was  read  aloud  ;  as  is  proved 
by  a  multitude  of  examples  in  Demosthenes  and  others. 
Every  thing  was,  however,  transacted  orally.  The 
judges  were  not  obliged  to  peruse  written  documents  : 
they  listened,  and  gave  in  their  votes. 

All  this  appears  very  simple,  and  easy  to  be  un- 
derstood. And  yet  the  judicial  institutions  of  Greece, 
if  we  should  form  our  opinion  from  one  state,  were  so 
confused,  that  it  is  difficult  for  the  most  learned  anti- 
quarians to  find  their  way  out  of  the  labyrinth.  The 
greatest  errors  are  made  by  those,  who,  forgetting 
that  the  institutions  in  question  were  not  formed  sys- 
tematically, but  practically  with  the  progress  of  time, 
endeavour  to  find  the  means  of  explanation  in  specu- 
lative ideas. 

The  first  and  most  important  difficulty  is  presented 
when  we  attempt  to  fix  the  characteristic  difference 
between  the  public  and  private  courts.  This  differ- 
ence was  not  only  general  in  the  existing  states,  but  was 
adopted  by  Plato  himself  in  his  sketch  of  a  perfect 
colony.*  These  two  classes  were  so  distinctly  sepa- 
rated, that  different  expressions  were  appropriated, 
not  only  for  the  general,  but  even  the  particular  rela- 
tions of  the  one  and  the  other,  f 

*  Plato  de  Legg.  L.  vi.  vol.  iv.  p.  282. 

t  A  public  accusation  was  called  <y(»fn  and  xxmyefiet,  to  accuse  any  one 
i««i*u>,  to  be  accused  Qiv-yur  rrt  yfxipri.     A  private  suit  was  called  1'ix.n,  to 


JUDICIAL  INSTITUTIONS.  223 

Certain  general  ideas,  according  to  which  Plato 
makes  the  distinction,  lay  at  the  bottom  of  this  divis- 
ion. "One  class  of  judicial  processes,"  says  he,*  "  is 
formed  of  the  suits  which  one  private  man,  complain- 
ing of  injustice,  brings  against  another.  The  second 
class,  on  the  contrary,  is,  when  the  state  believes 
itself  injured  by  one  of  the  citizens,  or  when  a  citizen 
comes  forward  to  its  assistance.7'  According  to  this 
explanation,  nothing  would  seem  simpler,  than  the 
difference  between  public  and  private  processes.  But 
if  we  compare  the  objects  comprehended  under  each 
of  the  two  classes,  we  shall  find  many  things  enumerat- 
ed as  affairs  of  the  state,  which  to  us  do  not  seem  to 
belong  to  this  class.  f  Of  this,  two  causes  may  be 
mentioned. 

The  first  is  the  view  which  the  Greeks  entertained 
of  the  relation  of  the  individual  citizen  to  the  state. 
The  person  of  the  citizen  was  highly  valued  ;  and 
could  not  but  be  highly  valued,  because  the  whole 
personal  condition  was  affected  by  the  possession  of 
citizenship.  An  injury  done  to  a  private  citizen,  was 
therefore  in  some  measure  an  injury  inflicted  on  the 
state;  and  so  far,  almost  every  injustice  suffered  by 
the  individual,  was  a  public  concern.  Yet  a  difference 
existed  even  here,  according  to  the  degree  of  the 
injury  ;  nor  was  it  indifferent,  whether  the  rights  of 
person,  or  only  those  of  property  had  been  violated. 


bring  an  action  \}fiy.n  and  ilftfiout  <rm  S/*«i»,  to  be  defen 
Such  were  the  expressions  at  least  in  Athens. 

*  Plato  1.  c. 

fin  Athens,  e.g.  there  belonged  to  this  class,  besides  several  other  offen- 
ces, murder,  intentional  wounds,  adultery,  &.c.  The  public  and  private  pro- 
cesses are  enumerated  in  Sigonius  de  Repnb.  Athen.  L.  iii,  and  may  be 
found  also  in  Potter's  Archsol.  Grasc. 


224  CHAPTER  ELEVENTH. 

A  second  circumstance  also  had  its  influence; 
prescription  for  the  most  part  determined  what  was  a 
crime  against  the  public,  and  what  was  but  a  private 
concern.  But  what  had  once  been  established  by 
prescription,  was  ever  after  valid  as  a  law.  Yet  who 
can  discover  all  the  causes,  perhaps  frequently  acci- 
dental, by  which  various  suits  came  to  be  considered 
in  one  age  or  another,  as  affairs  of  the  public  ? 

It  would  be  ineffectual  to  attempt  to  draw  very 
accurately  the  line  of  division  according  to  the  sub- 
jects. The  most  numerous  and  the  most  important, 
but  not  all  criminal  cases  were  regarded  as  public 
concerns.  This  class  embraced  not  merely  offences 
against  the  state  ;  though  this  idea  lay  at  the  founda- 
tion. We  must  rather  be  content  with  saying,  that 
prescription  had  caused  certain  offences  to  be  regard- 
ed as  public,  and  others  as  private  matters.  The 
regulations  respecting  them,  were,  however,  in  the 
Attic  law  very  exact ;  and  it  was  firmly  established, 
which  processes  belonged  to  the  state,  and  which  to 
individuals. 

The  character  of  the  two  classes  was  essentially 
distinguished  by  this  ;  that  in  the  public  affairs,  a 
complaint  might  be  made  by  any  citizen  ;  and  in  the 
private,  it  could  be  made  only  by  the  injured  person, 
or  his  nearest  relation  ;*  for  in  the  one  case,  the  state 
or  the  whole  community  was  regarded  as  the  injured 
party  ;  in  the  other,  only  the  individual. 

But  whoever  brought  the  suit,  it  was  necessary  in 
private  and  public  concerns  for  the  complainant  to  en- 
ter his  complaint  before  a  magistrate,  and  definitely 
state  the  offence,  which  he  charged  against  the  accus- 

*  See  the  proofs  in  Sigonius,  1.  c. 


JUDICIAL  INSTITUTIONS.  225 

ed.  The  magistrate,  before  whom  the  suit  was  thus 
commenced,  was  now  obliged  to  prepare  the  action,  so 
that  it  could  be  submitted  to  the  judges.  These 
judges  were  either  the  whole  community ;  or  some 
particular  courts,  which  may  perhaps  be  best  denom- 
inated, committees  of  the  people.  For  the  tribunals 
consisted  for  the  most  part  of  very  numerous  assem- 
blies, the  members  of  which  were  selected  from  the 
citizens  by  lot,  and  were  required  to  be  thirty  years 
old,  of  a  good  reputation,  and  in  nothing  indebted  to 
the  state.  They  were  sworn  to  do  their  duty  ;  they 
listened  to  the  orators,  both  the  accusers  and  the  de- 
fendants, to  whom  a  limited  time  was  appointed  ;  the 
witnesses  were  examined,  and  the  affair  so  far  brought 
to  a  close,  that  the  court  could  pronounce  its  sentence 
of  guilty  or  not  guilty.*  In  the  first  case,  the  nature 
of  the  punishment  remained  to  be  settled.  Where  this 
was  fixed  by  law,  sentence  was  immediately  passed ; 
did  the  nature  of  the  offence  render  that  impossible, 
the  defendant  was  permitted  to  estimate  the  punish- 
ment, of  which  he  believed  himself  deserving ;  and 
the  court  then  decided. 

Those  courts  were  therefore  similar  both  in  their 
organization  and  design  to  our  juries;  with  this  dif- 
ference, that  the  latter  are  with  us  but  twelve  in  num- 
ber, while  the  former  were  not  unfrequently  composed 
of  several  hundreds.  And  this  is  not  astonishing, 
for  they  occupied  the  place  of  the  whole  community, 
or  might  be  regarded  as  committees  of  the  same  ;  for 
when  suits  began  to  grow  frequent,  the  community 
could  not  always  be  assembled.  But  where  the  mem- 

'*  This  was  done  in  Athens  partly  by  votes  written  on  small  tablets,  and 
partly  by  white  and  black  beans. 

29 


226  CHAPTER  ELEVENTH. 

bers  that  constituted  the  tribunal  were  so  numerous, 
as  in  the  Hehaea  at  Athens,  it  is  hardly  credible,  that 
every  action  was  tried  before  the  whole  assembly.  It 
is  much  more  probable,  especially  when  suits  were 
multiplied,  that  the  same  court  of  judicature  had  sev- 
eral divisions,  in  which  the  trial  of  several  causes 
could  proceed  simultaneously.* 

As  a  difference  was  made  between  private  and 
public  actions,  we  might  expect  to  find  different  tribu- 
nals for  the  one  and  the  other.  Yet  this  was  not  the 
case ;  suits  of  both  kinds  could  be  entered  in  the 
same  courts.  The  difference  must  therefore  have 
lain  in  the  methods  of  trial  and  the  legal  remedies,! 
which  the  two  parties  could  employ.  We  are  astonish- 
ed to  find,  that  the  rules  respecting  what  suits  should 
come  before  each  particular  court  were  so  uncertain, 
that  it  would  be  vuin  for  us  to  attempt  to  settle  any 
general  principles  on  the  subject.  But  at  this  mo- 
ment we  have  in  England  an  example,  which  shows 
how  vain  it  is  to  expect  exact  regulations,  where 
courts  of  justice  have  been  formed  and  enlarged  by  cir- 
cumstances. Criminal  cases,  it  is  true,  belong  exclu- 
sively to  the  court  of  the  King's  Bench  ;  but  it  shares 
civil  actions  with  the  court  of  Common  Pleas,  and  the 
court  of  Exchequer,  in  such  a  manner,  that,  with  few 
exceptions,  certain  classes  of  suits  cannot  be  said  to 
belong  exclusively  to  either  of  these  tribunals. 

Our  remarks  thus  far  on  the  organization  of  the 

*  We  would  not  say,  that  all  trials  were  necessarily  brought  before  those 
courts.  In  Athens  the  police  officers  had  a  jurisdiction  of  their  own  ;  and 
affairs  belonging  to  their  department  appear ^to  have  been  immediately  de- 
cided by  them. 

t  As  e.  g.  the  -sa-ytyyn^  the  vr*ft«ria,  and  others,  in  the  public  trial?. 
Sigou.  1.  c.  iii.  c.  4. 


JUDICIAL  INSTITUTIONS.  227 

courts  apply  immediately  to  Athens  ;  but  they  will 
without  doubt  admit  of  a  much  wider  application  to 
the  other  Grecian  cities.  Yet  on  one  point  there  ex- 
isted a  remarkable  difference.  Though  the  popular 
tribunals  were  generally  introduced,  they  did  not  pre- 
vail in  every  state.  For  if  I  understand  Aristotle 
rightly,  there  were  no  popular  tribunals  in  Sparta, 
but  all  processes  were  there,  as  in  Carthage,  decided  by 
magistrates.*  If  Sparta  had  had  such  courts,  would 
they  not  have  been  mentioned  ?  But  when  Aristotle 
says  in  general,  that  it  is  the  leading  characteristic 
of  a  democracy,  that  the  citizens  should  be  the  judges 
of  one  another,!  may  we  not  infer,  and  is  it  not  evi- 
dent from  the  nature  of  things,  that  popular  tribu- 
nals disappeared,  wherever  the  sway  of  a  few  was 
established  ? 

The  example  of  Athens  shows  in  a  remarkable 
manner,  how  the  institution  of  these  popular  tribunals 
could  affect  the  whole  character  of  a  state.  Such 
could  be  the  case  in  Athens,  where  the  greatest  extent 
was  given  to  the  public  trials,  by  permitting  any  who 
desired,  to  appear  as  accusers.  The  whole  organi- 
zation of  the  Grecian  city  governments  leads  us  to 
believe,  that  most  of  the  other  cities  had  popular  tribu- 
nals, which,  without  having  exactly  the  same  form,  must 
have  been  similar  to  those  of  Athens.  Such  tribunals 
must  have  existed  in  Argos,  before  the  introduction 
of  ostracism,  and  in  Syracuse  before  the  similar  method 
of  banishment  by  petalism  came  into  vogue.  But 


*   Aristot.    Polit.    ii.    11.    **J  r»s  $/*«;  v*o  ruv  iaXi!uf 
firi  aXXaj  lit   aXX»»,  uy-ri^  \t  \axiS  ffiftsvi.       1^  S/xaj      •  tills    |w.-,-i>.-,u    I  <    OO    ua- 
deistood  01  all  suits  at  law,  or,  according  to  liie  mure  strict  use  of  the  word, 
only  of  private  suits? 
t  Aristot.  Polit.  vi.  2. 


228  CHAPTER  ELEVENTH. 

whether  the  public  processes  embraced  elsewhere  as 
many  subjects  as  at  Athens,  and  as  many  things, 
which  to  us  seem  to  regard  the  private  citizen  alone, 
is  a  question  which  we  cannot  decide  for  want  of 
information. 

This  point  has  been  entirely  overlooked  by  those, 
who  have  written  0:1  the  judicial  institutions  of  Greece ; 
for  they  had  Athens  only  in  view,  and  treated  the 
subject  more  as  one  of  jurisprudence  than  of  politics. 
And  yet  it  is  of  all  the  most  important.  The  more 
limited  was  the  number  of  public  suits,  the  smaller 
was  the  possibility  of  instituting  them,  unless  some 
personal  injury  had  previously  been  sustained.  In 
the  list  of  public  offences  at  Athens,  there  were  many, 
which,  by  their  very  nature,  were  indefinite.  Hence 
it  was  easy  to  bring  a  public  action  against  almost  any 
one.  We  need  but  think  of  an  age  of  curruption,  to 
understand  how  Athens,  after  the  Peloponnesian  war, 
could  teem  with  the  brood  of  sycophants,  against 
whom  the  orators  are  so  loud  in  their  complaints  ;  and 
whom  all  the  measures,  first  adopted  in  consequence 
of  the  magnitude  of  the  evil,  all  the  danger  and  pun- 
ishments to  which  false  accusers  were  exposed,  were 
never  sufficient  to  restrain. 

Were  other  cities,  at  least  the  democratic  ones, 
in  as  bad  a  condition  as  Athens  ?  Here  we  are  de- 
serted by  history  ;  which  has  preserved  for  us  almost 
nothing  respecting  the  extent  of  the  public  processes 
and  the  popular  tribunals.  But  if  in  Athens  several 
adventitious  causes,  lying  partly  in  the  national  char- 
acter, and  partly  in  the  political  power  of  Athens 
(for  the  importance  of  state  trials  increases  with  the 
importance  of  the  state),  contributed  to  multiply  this 


JUDICIAL  INSTITUTIONS.  229 

class  of  processes ;  it  by  no  means  follows,  that  the 
number  was  much  smaller  in  most  of  the  other  Gre- 
cian cities.  Popular  tribunals  are  the  sources  of  po- 
litical revolutions  ;  and  what  states  abounded  in  them 
more  than  the  Grecian?  The  man  of  influence, 
always  an  object  of  envy,  was  the  most  exposed  to  ac- 
cusations, where  it  was  so  easy  to  find  a  ground  of 
accusation  ;  but  the  man  of  influence  had  the  greatest 
resources  without  the  precincts  of  the  court.  He  with 
his  party,  if  he  is  conscious  of  possessing  sufficient 
strength,  has  recourse  to  arms,  and  instead  of  suffer- 
ing himself  to  be  banished  from  the  city,  prefers  to 
terminate  the  action  by  driving  away  his  enemies. 
Were  we  more  intimately  acquainted  with  the  history 
of  the  numberless  political  revolutions  in  Greece,  how 
often  would  this  same  succession  of  events  recur? 
But  though  we  are  not  always  able  to  establish  them 
by  historical  evidence,  they  cannot  on  the  whole  be 
doubted ;  and  they  distinctly  exhibit  the  close  con- 
nexion which  existed  between  the  states  and  their 
judicial  institutions. 


230  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 


CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY. 

THOUGH  wars  were  so  frequent  in  Greece,  the 
art  of  war  did  not  make  any  considerable  advances. 
The  constitutions  and  the  whole  political  condition 
opposed  too  many  obstacles ;  and  war  never  became 
a  science,  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word,  till  standing 
armies  were  introduced.  This  has  already  been 
satisfactorily  proved  by  history.  There  were  some 
individual  commanders  of  great  merit,  who  did  all 
that  talents  could  do  ;  but  all  that  they  effected  was 
personal.  Besides,  the  extent  of  states  sets  limits 
to  improvement  These  bounds  cannot  be  accurately 
marked,  where  genius  and  circumstances  exercise  so 
much  influence  ;  but  the  absolute  strength  must  also 
necessarily  be  considered.  The  advancement  and 
perfecting  of  the  art  of  war  require  experiments  on 
so  large  a  scale,  that  small  states  cannot  perform 
them. 

After  the  republican  constitutions  of  the  Greeks 
were  established,  their  armies  consisted  chiefly  of 
militia.  Every  citizen  was  obliged  to  serve  in  it, 
unless  the  state  itself  made  particular  exceptions.  In 
Athens,  the  obligation  continued  from  the  eighteenth 
to  the  fifty-eighth  year;  we  do  not  know  whether  it 
was  elsewhere  the  same  ;  but  a  great  difference  could 
hardly  have  existed.  Each  citizen  was  therefore  a 


THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY.  231, 

soldier ;  even  the  inquilini,  the  resident  strangers, 
were  not  always  spared  ;*  and  there  were  times  of 
distress,  when  the  very  slaves  were  armed,  usually 
under  the  promise  of  their  freedom,  if  they  should  do 
their  duty.f 

The  militia  of  a  country  may,  under  certain  cir- 
cumstances, very  nearly  resemble  a  standing  army. 
Yet  the  principles  on  which  the  two  are  founded,  are 
very  different.  The  citizen  who  serves  as  a  soldier, 
has  for  his  object  the  defence  of  his  family  and  his 
property  ;  and  hence  the  maxim  in  states,  where  the 
army  is  composed  of  citizens,  that  he  who  has  the 
most  to  lose,  will  make  the  best  soldier.  In  Rome 
the  poorer  class  (capite  censi),  till  the  times  of  Marius, 
was  excluded  from  military  service ;  and  it  seems 
to  have  been  hardly  otherwise  in  Athens.J  Yet  this 
poorer  class  was  or  grew  to  be  the  most  numerous  ; 
accustomed  to  privations,  those  who  composed  it 
were  perhaps  for  that  reason  the  best  .fitted  for  the 
duties  of  war.  When,  on  the  contrary,  standing 
armies  are  formed,  property  ceases  to  be  regarded ; 
and  the  greatest  number  of  enlistments  is  made  from 
the  needy  part  of  the  community.  What  a  contrast 
between  this  and  the  Grecian  institutions  ! 

Considering  therefore  the  moderate  extent  of  the 
Grecian  states,  it  was  the  less  to  be  expected  that  any 
of  them  could  assemble  a  large  army,  if  the  slaves 
were  not  enrolled.  Even  where  every  one  was  put 
in  motion,  the  number  remained  limited;  not  more 

*  They  were  at  least  obliged  sometimes  to  do  naval  service.  Demosth. 
Phil.  i.  Op.  i.  p.  50. 

fThucyd.  iv.  5. 

t  Harpocration  in  &wnt.  Yet  it  is  evident  from  the  passage,  that  the 
case  was  different  in  the  time  of  Demosthenes. 


232  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

than  ten  thousand  Athenians  fought  on  the  plain  of 
Marathon.  Large  armies  could  be  collected  only  by 
the  union  of  many  states  ;  the  most  numerous  ever 
collected  in  Greece  during  its  independence,  was  in 
the  battle  of  Platseae.*  But  these  considerable  alli- 
ances were  commonly  of  a  temporary  nature  ;  and  for 
that  reason  the  art  of  war  could  not  be  much  advanced 
by  them.  From  the  battle  of  Plataese  till  the  age 
of  Epaminondas,  that  is,  during  the  most  flourishing 
period  of  Greece,  a  Grecian  army  of  thirty  thousand 
men  was  probably  never  assembled  in  one  place. 

The  Persian  wars  seem  to  have  been  suited  to 
promote  the  improvement  of  military  science.  But 
after  the  battle  of  Plataeae,  it  was  the  navy  and  not 
the  land  forces  which  became  of  decisive  influence. 
After  that  battle,  no  considerable  one  was  fought  by 
land ;  no  large  Grecian  army  was  again  brought 
together.  By  maintaining  the  ascendancy  in  the 
^Egean  sea,  Greece  was  protected. 

The  petty  wars,  which,  after  the  victories  over  the 
Persians,  were  carried  on  between  the  several  states, 
could  not  contribute  much  to  the  advancement  of  the 
art.  They  were  nothing  but  single  expeditions, 
decided  by  single  insignificant  engagements. 

No  such  advancement  could  therefore  be  expected 
till  the  time  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  which  involved 
all  Greece.  But  this  war  soon  came  to  be  carried  on 
more  by  sea  than  by  land  ;  and  the  military  opera- 
tions consisted  principally  in  sieges.  No  single  great 
battle  was  fought  on  land  during  its  whole  course ; 
besides  naval  science,  therefore,  the  art  of  besieging 

*  About  111,000  men.    But  only  38,000  were  heavily  armed  ;   and  of  the 
light  armed  troops,  37,000  were  Spartan  Helots.      Herod,  ix.  29,  30. 


THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY.  233 

may  have  made  some  progress,  especially  in  the 
expedition  against  Syracuse.  But  as  this  expedition 
terminated  in  the  total  destruction  of  the  army,  it 
could  have  no  abiding  consequences. 

Till  the  age  of  Epaminondas,  Sparta  and  Athens 
are  the  only  states  which  attract  our  attention.  In 
Sparta,  where  the  militia  resembled  a  standing  army, 
it  would  seem  that  the  art  of  war  might  have  made 
advances.  But  two  causes  prevented.  The  one  was 
the  obstinate  attachment  to  ancient  usage,  which  ren- 
dered changes  and  improvements  difficult.  The 
other  was  the  remarkable  scarcity  of  great  command- 
ers, a  scarcity  to  have  been  least  expected  in  a  war- 
like state ;  but  which  may  have  proceeded  from  the 
former  cause.  If  we  possessed  a  history  of  Pausanias, 
written  by  himself,  it  would  perhaps  show  us  how  his 
talents,  limited  in  their  exercise  by  the  regulations  of 
his  native  city,  proved  ruinous  to  himself,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  German  Wallenstein,  by  making  him  a 
traitor.  Leonidas  has  our  admiration  for  his  great- 
ness as  a  man,  not  as  a  general ;  and  the  fiery  Brasi- 
das,  well  fitted  to  be  the  hero  of  a  revolutionary  war, 
like  the  Peloponnesian,  fell  in  the  very  beginning  of 
his  career,*  and  no  worthy  successors  appeared  till 
Lysander  and  Agesilaus.  And  of  the  first  of  these 
two,  it  is  known  that  he  trusted  rather  in  the  Persian 
subsidies  than  in  himself. 

More  could  then  have  been  expected  from  Athens. 
But  here,  as  our  preceding  remarks  have  made  ap- 
parent, the  army  was  subordinate  to  the  navy.  From 

*Thucyd.  v.  10.  When  we  read  his  proclamation,  addressed  to  the 
Acanthians,  Thucyd.  iv.  85.  we  believe  ourselves  brought  down  to  the  years 
1793  and  1794. 

30 


234  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

the  commencement  of  the  splendid  period  of  that 
republic,  its  political  greatness  rested  on  the  latter. 
This  preserved  to  it  the  ascendancy ;  its  allies  were 
maritime  cities,  and  assisted  with  ships  rather  than 
with  troops  ;  and  the  destiny  of  Athens  was  decided 
on  the  sea,  gloriously  at  Salamis,  and  tragically  on 
the  Hellespont.*  In  Athens^  therefore,  no  strong 
motive  could  exist,  to  perfect  the  art  of  war  by 
land. 

Such  were  the  obstacles  in  general ;  others  lay  in 
the  manner  in  which  the  military  affairs  of  the  Gre- 
cians were  organized.  We  mention  first  the  situation 
of  the  commanders  ;  at  least  in  Athens  and  in  several 
other  cities  ;f  in  which  not  one,  but  several  generals 
shared  the  chief  command  with  one  another,  and  even 
that  usually  for  a  short  period  of  time. 

Where  a  militia  exists,  the  political  divisions  are 
usually  military  in  their  origin.  Such  was  the  case 
with  the  tribes  hi  Rome  and  in  Athens.^  The  ten 
wards  of  this  last  city  had  each  its  own  leader  ;  and 
these  together  were  the  generals.  §  So  it  was  in  the 
Persian,  so  in  the  Peloponnesian  war.||  That  a  simi- 
lar regulation  existed  in  Bceotia,  is  evident  from  the 
number  of  their  commanders  ;  and  we  learn  the  same 
respecting  Syracuse,  as  well  from  the  history  of  its 
war  with  Athens, If  as  from  the  elevation  of  Dionysius. 
In  Athens,  a  kind  of  destiny  secured  in  the  decisive 
moment,  the  preponderance  to  a  superior  mind,  a 

*In  the  year  406  B.  C.  near  yEgospotamos. 
t  As  e.  g.  in  Thebes  and  in  Syracuse. 
J  These  were  called  tribus  in  Rome,  $vA«u  in  Athens. 
§  The  oT^nTnyoi,  of  whom  ten  were  annually  appointed. 
||  Compare  the  instructive  narration  in  Herod,  yi.  109,  respecting  the 
consultation  previous  to  the  battle  of  Marathon. 

II  Thucyd.  vi.  63.  * 


THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY.  235 

Miltiades  ;  but  where  the  command  was  shared  by  so 
many,  it  is  obvious  that  existing  institutions  could 
receive  but  little  improvement. 

Another  still  greater  obstacle  lay  in  the  circum- 
stance, that  the  troops  were  not  paid.  Before  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  or  at  least  before  the  administra- 
tion of  Pericles,  no  pay  was  given  in  Athens  or  any 
Grecian  city,  except,  perhaps,  Corinth.  Military 
service  was  the  duty  of  a  citizen ;  and  he  who 
served,  was  obliged  to  provide  for  himself.  But  he 
who  receives  nothing  from  the  state,  will  the  less  sub- 
mit to  its  commands.  From  that  period,  the  custom 
of  paying  was  so  far  introduced,  that  those  who  had 
actually  taken  the  field,  received  a  very  small  com- 
pensation.* With  such  a  constitution,  moral  causes 
must  have  outweighed  commands.  Courage  and 
patriotism  can  animate  an  army  of  citizens,  but  can 
hardly  make  a  machine  of  them ;  and  what  fruits 
would  have  been  gathered  by  him,  who  should  have 
succeeded  in  the  attempt  ? 

Beside  these  difficulties,  there  existed  in  many 
states  another,  arising  from  the  weakness  of  their 
cavalry,  or  a  total  want  of  it.  Homer  knows  nothing 
of  cavalry.  It  does  not  seem  to  have  been  introduced 
into  the  Grecian  states  till  after  the  establishment  of 
republican  forms  of  government ;  since,  according  to 
the  remark  of  Aristotle,  the  opulent  citizens  found  in 
it  at  once  a  support  of  their  power  and  a  gratification 
of  their  vanity,  f  But  whether  a  city  could  have 
cavalry,  depended  on  the  nature  of  its  territory,  and 
the  quantity  of  pasture  which  it  possessed.  Where 

*  The  Athenians  paid  from  two  to  four  oboli  daily, 
t  On  Sparta,  consult  Xenoph.  Op.  p.  596. 


236  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

the  territory  was  not  favourable,  the  cavalry  was  not 
strong.  Athens,  where  so  much  attention  was  paid 
to  this  subject,  never  had  more  than  a  thousand  men  ; 
Sparta  appears,  before  Agesilaus,  to  have  had  few, 
or  perhaps  originally  none  at  all ;  the  Peloponnesus 
was  little  adapted  to  it ;  and  Thessaly,  the  only  state 
of  the  mother  country  which  possessed  any  consider- 
able body  of  it,  was  not  remarkably  skilful  in  making 
use  of  it.*  Where  it  existed,  none  but  wealthy  citi- 
zens could  serve  in  it,  for  the  service  was  expensive. 
This  was  the  case  in  Athens  ;f  and  yet  here  the  state 
provided  for  the  support  of  the  horses  even  in  time 
of  peace  ;  and  the  weak  but  splendid  cavalry  formed 
no  inconsiderable  article  in  the  sum  of  the  yearly 
expenditures.^ 

Previous  to  the  Macedonian  times,  the  distinction 
between  heavy  and  light  horse  seems  to  have  been 
unknown  in  Greece ;  though  it  would  be  too  much 
to  assert  that  a  difference  in  the  equipments  nowhere 
prevailed.  The  Athenian  horsemen  were  equipped 
much  like  a  modern  cuirassier,  with  breastplate,  hel- 
met, and  greaves ;  and  even  the  horses  were  partly 
covered. §  From  the  exercises  which  Xenophon 
prescribes,  to  leap  over  ditches  and  walls,  we  must 
not  conceive  the  armour  as  too  cumbersome.  ||  I  find 
no  accounts  of  that  of  the  Thessalian  cavalry ;  but 

*  See  the  account  of  their  war  with  the  Phocians.  Pausan.  p.  798.  The 
forces  of  Thessaly  seem  to  have  consisted  chiefly  in  cavalry  ;  at  least  noth- 
ing else  is  mentioned.  The  surest  proof  of  their  little  progress  in  the  art 
of  war. 

t  The  knights,  <WuV .  formed  the  second  class  according  to  property. 

J  According  to  Xenoph.  de  Magist.  Equit.  Op.  p.  956,  it  cost  40  talents 
annually. 

§  Xenoph.  deRe  Eqnestri,  Op.  p.  951,  has  described  them  minutely. 

||  Xenoph.  Op.  p.  944. 


THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY.  237 

from  what  Pausanias  says  of  it,  it  could  not  have  been 
very  light.* 

With  respect  to  the  infantry,  the  difference  between 
heavy  and  light  armed  troopsf  prevailed  thoughout 
all  Greece.  The  former  were  armed  for  the  attack 
and  close  conflict.  They  wore  a  coat  of  mail  and 
helmet ;  the  rest  of  the  body  was  protected  by  the 
shield.  For  the  attack  they  had  both  spear  and 
sword.  The  light  troops,  unincumbered  with  that 
heavy  armour,  carried  the  javelin,  with  bow  and 
arrows.  J 

The  weapons  continued,  therefore,  the  same  as 
those  which  we  find  used  in  the  Homeric  age.  But 
many  inquiries  and  many  attempts  were  made,  to 
improve  them  in  various  respects.  Whether  a 
straight  or  curved  sword  was  the  best  ;§  whether  a 
longer  or  a  shorter  shield  deserved  the  preference  ;|| 
above  all,  how  the  weight  of  the  coat  of  mail  could 
be  diminished,  and  whether  it  should  be  made  of  met- 
al or  of  some  lighter  substance,H  were  questions  of  no 
little  importance.  Yet  previous  to  the  Macedonian 
age,  we  hear  of  no  changes  which  could  give  a  new 
character  to  the  whole  ;  and  therefore  we  must  leave 
to  the  antiquarian  all  farther  particular  researches. 

*Pausan.  p.  797.  The  horsemen  who  had  been  thrown  down,  being  un- 
able to  rise,  were  slain  by  the  Phocians. 

f  'Ortirai  and  ^,Xa/.     See  Potter's  Archaeolog. 

|  Bow  and  arrows  do  not  seem  to  have  been  favourite  weapons ;  they 
are  seldom  mentioned,  and  only  in  connexion  with  certain  tribes,  as  the 
Cretans.  Javelins  were  preferred.  These  were  carried  by  the  cavalry,  as 
appears  from  Xenoph.  11.  cc. 

§  Xenopb.  Op.  p.  953. 

||  Hence  the  different  names  fopis  and  «•«*«*,  the  large  shield,  ««•»•«  and 
vUm,  the  small  one,  &.c. 

H  The  invention  of  the  lighter  coat  of  mail  distinguishes  Iphicrates.  Cor- 
nel. Nep.  in  iphic.  c.  1. 


238  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  ask  leave,  so  far  as  one  who 
has  not  been  initiated  into  the  art  of  war,  may  ven- 
ture his  opinions,  to  offer  some  remarks  respecting  the 
progress  made  by  the  Greeks  in  the  art  which  relates 
to  the  positions  and  evolutions  of  armies,  all  which 
we  comprehend  under  the  word  tactics.  We  the 
more  desire  to  do  this,  because  it  will  afford  us  a 
favourable  opportunity  of  expressing  an  opinion  on 
some  of  their  most  distinguished  generals.  It  can 
with  truth  be  said,  that  the  art  of  tactics  is  in  some 
respects  independent  of  the  progress  of  the  other 
branches  of  military  science ;  and  in  others  is  neces- 
sarily dependent  on  them.  It  is  independent,  so 
far  as  we  speak  of  taking  advantage  of  situation  and 
the  ground.  The  leader  of  a  savage  horde  may  profit 
by  his  position,  no  less  than  the  commander  of  the 
best  disciplined  army.  Each  will  do  it  in  his  own 
way.  It  is  an  affair  of  superior  minds,  and  rules 
cannot  be  given  on  the  subject.  He  can  do  it,  to  whom 
nature  has  given  the  necessary  keenness  and  quick- 
ness of  view.  This  art  is  therefore  always  the  prop- 
erty of  individuals ;  it  cannot  be  propagated  or  pre- 
served by  instructions.  Entirely  the  reverse  is  true 
of  the  drawing  up  of  an  army,  and  the  evolutions 
dependent  thereupon.  They  rest  upon  rules  and 
knowledge,  which  are  lasting;  though  we  readily 
concede  that  this  is  but  as  it  were  the  inanimate 
body  of  the  art,  into  which  genius  must  breathe  life. 
Modern  history  has  shown  by  a  great  example,  how 
those  forms  may  continue  in  the  most  courageous  and 
best  disciplined  army,  and  yet  produce  no  effect  when 
the  spirit  of  them  has  passed  away.  But  here  a  sub- 
ject is  proposed  to  the  historian,  of  which  he  can 


THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY.  239 

treat.  Can  this  be  done  better  than  by  comparing 
together  several  of  the  principal  engagements,  of  which 
detailed  accounts  have  been  preserved  ?  Inferences 
which  may  thus  be  drawn  respecting  the  progress  of 
tactics,  can  hardly  be  exposed  to  any  considerable 
errors. 

In  the  Persian  wars,  the  victory  of  Marathon  was 
the  first  splendid  military  action  of  the  Greeks,  or  rath- 
er of  the  Athenians.  Athens  owed  it  to  the  heroic 
spirit  of  her  Miltiades.  It  was  he  who  turned  the  scale, 
when  it  was  still  a  question,  whether  a  battle  should 
be  ventured  or  not.  The  voices  of  the  ten  leaders, 
of  whom  Miltiades  was  one,  were  divided  ;  the  elev- 
enth vote  of  the  Polemarch  was  to  decide.  At  this 
moment  Miltiades  arose  and  addressed  the  Polemarch 
Callimachus.*  u  It  now  rests  with  you  to  reduce 
Athens  to  slavery,  or,  setting  it  free,  to  leave  a  repu- 
tation among  men,  such  as  neither  Harmodius  nor 
Aristogiton  has  left ;  for  long  as  the  city  of  Athens 
has  existed,  it  has  never  been  in  any  danger  like  the 
present.  If  it  should  submit  to  the  Persians,  it  is 
already  determined  what  it  will  suffer  under  its 
tyrants  ;  should  it  be  saved,  it  can  become  the  first 
of  Grecian  cities.  If  we  do  not  join  battle,  I  fear  a 
faction  will  confuse  the  minds  of  the  Athenians,  and 
make  them  Persian  ;  if  we  fight,  victory  will  be  ours 
with  the  gods."  History  can  relate  of  a  great  man, 
nothing  more  important  than  his  conduct  in  the  most 
decisive  moment  of  his  life.  Miltiades  himself  could 
not  have  forboded  how  much  depended  on  that  mo- 
ment ;  yet  he  gained  his  end,  and  Callimachus  adopt- 
ed his  opinion.  But  besides  the  talent  of  the  general, 

*  Herod,  vi.  109. 


240  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

who  knew  how  to  avail  himself  of  his  position  to  cover 
his  wings,  the  victory  was  not  less  decided  by  the 
discipline  of  the  Athenian  militia,  accustomed  to 
preserve  their  ranks  even  while  advancing  with  ra- 
pidity. They  ran  to  the  encounter  ;*  the  first  of  the 
Greeks,  who  did  so.  The  wings  of  the  enemy  were 
discomfited  ;  and  the  name  of  Marathon  became  im- 
mortal among  men. 

The  battle  of  Plataeae,  which  happened  eleven 
years  later,  f  is  one  of  those,  respecting  which  we  have 
the  most  accurate  accounts. :{:  The  motions  of  the 
army  on  the  preceding  days,  give  it  an  importance 
for  the  student  of  tactics.  In  his  evolutions  the  Per- 
sian general  seems  to  have  been  superior  to  the  Gre- 
cian ;  for  he  cut  off  all  communication  with  them,  and 
all  supplies  of  water,  and  compelled  them  to  change 
their  encampment.  But  the  want  of  cavalry  in  the 
face  of  an  army  which  abounded  in  it,  made  every  mo- 
tion of  the  Greeks  difficult ;  and  when  we  remember 
the  internal  organization  of  the  army,  and  the  little 
power  possessed  by  the  commander,  not  only  over  the 
allies,  but  even  over  his  own  Spartans,^  we  shall  discov- 
er still  greater  difficulties,  with  which  Pausanias  had  to 
contend.  And  yet  the  Grecians  obtained  a  splendid 
victory ;  but  it  was  far  more  the  result  of  the  despe- 

*  ir  type?,  Herod,  vi.  112.  Herodotus  says  expressly,  that  they  made  the 
attack  with  closed  ranks,  if^ :  we  must  not  therefore  think  of  a  wild  on- 
set. They  had  neither  cavalry  nor  archers  ;  just  as  (he  Swiss  at  Novara  in 
1513  were  without  cavalry  and  artillery  ;  in  each  case  the  result  was  the 
same.  When  enthusiasm  makes  the  attack,  computation  ceases  to  be  valid. 

t  In  the  year  479  B.  C. 

jHerod.  ix.  28,  etc.  Plutarch,  in  Aristide.  Op.  ii.  p.  510,  etc.  has  made 
use  of  Herodotus. 

§  See  in  Herodotus,  and  Plutarch  11.  cc.  p.  617,  the  relation  of  the  disobe- 
dience of  Amompharetus,  in  confirmation  of  the  remark  which  we  made 
above,  p.  233>  on  Pausanias. 


THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY.  241 

rate  attack  made  by  the  Tegeans  and  the  Spar- 
tans, than  of  artful  evolutions.  In  the  days  which 
preceded  the  battle,  Pausanias  appears  as  a  general 
of  prudence  and  sound  judgment;  he  owed  the 
victory  not  to  himself,  but  to  a  part  of  his  army  and 
to  fortune. 

Of  the  battles  which  the  able  and  successful  Cimon 
won  of  the  Persians,  history  has  preserved  no  details  ; 
but  yet  enough  to  show,  that  the  science  of  tactics 
was  not  advanced  by  them.  They  were  for  the  most 
part  naval  engagements :  those  which  took  place  on 
land,  were  only  unexpected  attacks.  After  his  death, 
Plutarch  tells  us  expressly,  nothing  great  or  consider- 
able was  executed.* 

The  first  campaigns  of  the  Peloponnesian  war 
show  beyond  dispute,  that  the  art  of  war,  in  a  higher 
sense,  had  made  but  little  progress.  They  were  only 
inroads  followed  by  nothing  decisive.  We  have  al- 
ready remarked,  why,  in  the  progress  of  that  long 
and  weary  war,  tactics  gained  so  little. 

The  case  was  changed,  when,  after  this  war, 
Sparta,  contending  for  the  rank  she  had  won,  found 
her  Agesilaus,  and  was  yet  obliged  to  yield  the  ascen- 
dancy to  Thebes.  Here  the  decision  was  made  by 
armies  and  not  by  navies.  In  the  view  of  those  states, 
therefore,  armies  rose  in  importance. 

We  will  not  refuse  to  Agesilaus  any  of  the  praises 
which  Xenophon  has  lavished  on  him.  He  was  a  mod- 
el not  only  of  a  Spartan,  but  of  a  Grecian  general. 
In  the  Spartan  method  of  war,  he  made  one  change  j 
in  his  wars  against  the  Persians  in  Asia,  he  was  the 
first  to  form  a  numerous  cavalry ;  and  to  show  that  he 

*Plntarch.  in  Cimone,  Op.  Hi.  p.  217. 

31 


242  CHAPTEll  TWELFTH. 

knew  the  use  of  it.*  Except  this,  he  made  no  essen- 
tial alteration  in  the  tactics.  The  proof  of  this  is 
found  in  the  description  which  Xenophon  has  givenf 
of  the  battle  of  Coronea.  The  same  usual  position 
was  taken :  the  usual  method  of  attack,  by  opposing 
a  straight  line  to  a  straight  line ;  without  any  artifi- 
cial evolutions,  either  before  or  during  the  battle. 

If  it  should  appear  from  all  this,  that  the  higher 
branches  of  the  art  of  war,  including  tactics,  had  not 
made  so  considerable  progress  as  might  have  been 
expected  from  the  greatest  of  commanders,  we  would 
not  in  any  degree  diminish  the  fame  of  those  distin- 
guished men.  Their  glory  rests  on  something  inde- 
pendent of  the  mere  evolutions  of  their  armies.  The 
Grecian  leader  was  more  closely  united  to  his  sol- 
diers ;  he  was  obliged  to  know  how  to  gain  the 
confidence  of  his  fellow -soldiers,  who  at  the  same  time 
were  his  fellow-citizens.  This  could  not  be  done  by 
commands;  rank  and  birth  were  here  of  no  avail; 
every  thing  depended  on  personal  character  ;  and  to 
be  esteemed  a  great  man  it  was  necessary  to  give 
proofs  of  greatness. 

It  is  the  glory  of  the  Greek  nation,  that  it  produc- 
ed in  almost  every  science  and  art  the  man,  who  first 
clearly  recognised  the  eternal  principles  on  which  it 
rests,  and  by  the  application  of  them,  unconsciously 
became  the  instructer  of  posterity.  In  the  art  of  war, 
such  a  man  appeared  in  Epaminondas.  His  fame  as  a 
warrior  is  his  least  glory  ;  the  world  should  behold  in 
him  the  noblest  character  of  his  nation.  He  was  for  his 

*  But  that  too  was  only  temporary.    The  battle  of  Leuctra  shows  ho\v 
bad  the  Spartan  cavalry  was  at  a  subsequent  period.     See  Xenoph.  Op.  p.  696. 
>  Xenoph.  in  Agesil.  Op.  p.  659. 


THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY.  243 

age,  what  Gustavus  Adolphus  was  for  a  later  one.  If 
we  take  from  each  of  these  great  men,  the  peculiari- 
ties of  their  times,  it  will  be  difficult  to  find  two  more 
congenial  spirits,  two  characters  more  nearly  resem- 
bling each  other.  The  parallel  we  leave  for  others  to 
draw  ;  of  both  we  never  can  hear  too  much  ;  it  is 
Epaminondas,  the  skilful  soldier,  whom  we  are  now  to 
consider.  The  idea  on  which  his  change  in  the  method 
of  war  was  founded,  was  as  simple  as  the  man  him- 
self; and  we  can  hardly  fail  of  observing,  that  it  pro- 
ceeded from  his  peculiar  situation.  With  an  inferior 
force  he  had  to  cope  with  a  more  powerful  adversary  ;* 
and  this  is  the  true  criterion  of  military  genius.  It 
did  not  escape  him,  that  he  could  not  succeed  with 
the  former  order  of  battle,  according  to  which  one 
line  was  drawn  up  in  front  of  the  other.  Hence  he 
determined  to  concentrate  the  attack  in  one  point  with  a 
part  of  his  army,  whilst  he  withdrew  the  rest ;  and  his 
object  was,  in  that  one  point  to  break  through  the  hostile 
line.  In  this  manner  he  was  triumphant  at  Leuctra, 
where  he  fell  upon  the  right  wing  of  the  Spartans.  But 
at  Leuctra,  the  success  of  the  Theban  cavalry  had  led 
the  way  to  a  successful  issue  ;  it  is  at  Mantinea,  that 
we  see  for  the  first  time  the  full  application  of  the 
new  tactics,  which  are  described  to  us  by  one  pro- 
foundly acquainted  with  the  subject.  "  Epaminon- 
das," says  Xenophon,f  u  advanced  with  his  army  like 
a  galley  with  threatening  prow  ;  sure  that  if  he  could 
once  break  through  the  line  of  his  adversaries,  a 

*The  Spartan  forces  in  the  battle  of  Leuctra  were  thrice  as  numerous  as 
the  Theban  ;  and  besides,  till  that  time,  had  been  reckoned  invincible. 

tXenoph.  H.  Gr.  vi.  Op.  p.  596.  We  learn  from  the  same  passage  how 
much  the  excellent  Theban  cavalry  (formed  by  Pelopidas)  surpassed  the 
Spartan. 


244  CHAPTEU  TWELFTH. 

general  flight  would  ensue.  He  therefore  determined 
to  make  the  attack  with  the  flower  of  his  army,  while 
he  drew  back  the  weaker  part  of  it."  Thus  the 
illustrious  Theban  solved  the  great  problem  in  tactics, 
by  means  of  its  position,  to  use  the  several  parts  of  an 
army  at  will ;  the  art  of  war,  which  was  thus  invented, 
deserved  the  name,  and  was  the  same  which  ensured 
to  Alexander  the  victory  on  the  Granicus,  as  well  as 
to  Frederic  at  Leuthen.  It  is  easy  to  be  perceived, 
that  the  execution  of  the  plan  was  a  still  greater  effort 
than  its  invention.  Troops  far  better  trained  than 
the  usual  armies  of  the  Greeks,  were  needed.  And 
it  is  in  this  very  circumstance,  that  Xenophon,  him- 
self an  experienced  officer^  places  the  great  merit  of 
Epaminondas.* 

We  may  therefore  say  with  truth,  that  the  higher 
branches  of  the  art  of  war  began  with  Epaminondas 
to  be  understood.  But  even  before  him,  a  change 
had  gradually  taken  place  in  the  whole  military 
regulations ;  a  change  of  the  most  decisive  impor- 
tance. 

We  allude  to  the  custom  of  paying  the  troops. 
In  states  which  originally  made  exclusive  use  of  mili- 
tia, the  form  and  the  spirit  of  their  military  institu- 
tions must  have  been  changed  by  the  introduction  of 
mercenary  troops.  These  could  not  have  the  internal 
regulations  of  the  militia;  which  were  founded  on  the 
division  of  the  citizens  ;  and  although  the  Swiss  mer- 
cenaries of  the  sixteenth  century  have  proved  that 
battles  can  be  gained  even  with  hired  soldiers,  yet 
the  examples  of  those  times  have  also  proved  that 
evils  are  inseparable  from  the  custom. 

*Xenoph.  Op.p.  645. 


THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY.  245 

The  use  of  mercenaries  in  Greece,  may  be  traced 
to  a  very  remote  period.  The  tyrants,  those  usurpers 
who  made  their  appearance  in  the  cities  at  so  early  a 
date,  were  doubtless  the  first  to  introduce  it ;  because 
they  needed  an  armed  force  to  protect  their  usurped 
authority.  But  this  force  did  not  always  consist  of 
foreigners ;  but  rather,  especially  in  the  early  times, 
of  an  armed  party  of  the  citizens,  or  was  selected 
from  among  the  partisans  of  the  tyrant  ;*  and  further, 
an  institution  which  was  regarded  as  unjust,  could 
not  continue,  still  less  be  adopted  and  regularly  es- 
tablished. 

Hired  troops,  of  which  we  would  here  treat,  began 
to  be  employed  in  the  Grecian  cities  at  a  later  period. 
In  the  beginning  of  the  Persian  war,  at  Marathon  and 
at  Platseae  we  hear  nothing  of  them.  In  the  Pelopon- 
nesian  war,  they  were  commonly,!  and  after  these 
times,  almost  universally  employed.  Several  causes 
operated  to  produce  this  effect. 

The  first  was  the  whole  condition  of  private  life. 
When  luxury  and  the  comforts  of  life  were  introduced 
after  the  Persians  were  known,  it  is  not  astonishing 
that  the  rich  desired  to  be  free  from  military  service. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  Peloponnesian  war  and  the 
almost  universal  revolutions  produced  by  it,  had  so 
increased  the  number  of  the  poor,  that  there  was  a 

*This  was  done  by  Pisistratus  on  his  first  usurpation  ;  Herod,  i.  59.  In 
later  times  (let  the  history  of  Syracuse  be  called  to  mind),  the  hired  troops 
of  the  tyrants  were  wholly  or  chiefly  composed  of  foreigners. 

t  The  hired  troops  of  the  Spartans,  from  the  Peloponnesus,  arc  mentioned 
as  early  as  the  times  of  Brasidas  ;  Thucyd.  L.  iv.  80 ;  those  of  Athens  from 
Thrace,  about  the  same  time  ;  Thucyd.  L.  v.  6. ;  those  of  the  Corinthians 
and  others  we  find  constantly  mentioned.  In  the  Peloponnesus,  it  was 
chiefly  the  Arcadians  who  served  as  mercenaries  ;  hence  the  proverb  among 
the  poets ;  \\  'A?*aV«s  \xmoveai,  Athen.  i.  p.  27.  for  they  did  not  serve  for 
nothing. 


246  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

numerous  class  who  made  a  profession  of  war,  and 
were  ready  to  serve  any  one  who  would  pay  them. 
But  still  more  important  was  the  fact,  that  with  the 
Persians  no  less  than  the  Greeks,  the  same  change  in 
domestic  life  produced  the  same  consequences.  The 
subsidies  of  the  former  first  enabled  the  Spartans  to 
hire  troops.  But  they  soon  hired  in  their  turn,  and 
in  greater  numbers  than  the  Greeks  ;  and  no  merce- 
naries were  so  acceptable,  none  so  indispensable  to 
them  as  the  Grecian.  The  high  wages  which  they 
gave,  like  those  of  the  British  in  modern  times,  allur- 
ed numerous  troops  across  the  sea  ;  and  we  need  but 
call  to  mind  the  ten  thousand  whom  Clearchus  led  to 
Cyrus  the  younger,  and  with  whom  Xenophon  made 
his  retreat,*  to  be  convinced  that  great  multitudes 
followed  this  kind  of  life.  The  subsequent  Phocian 
warf  was  conducted  by  the  Phocians,  who  were  aided 
by  the  treasures  of  Delphi,  almost  exclusively  with 
hired  troops  ;  and  Demosthenes  is  loud  in  his  com- 
plaints and  censure  of  a  custom,  which  all  his  elo- 
quence was  not  able  to  change.} 

Of  all  writers,  Isocrates  has  spoken  the  most  distinct- 
ly on  this  subject  His  long  life  continued  almost 
through  the  whole  period  in  which  this  custom  arose ; 
and  the  consequences  were  so  distinctly  visible  in  his 
old  age,  his  patriotism  could  not  but  break  forth  in 
lamentations.  Those  very  troops  of  Clearchus  and 
Xenophon,  troops  which  had  made  the  Persians  trem- 
ble,— who  were  they  ?  Men,  says  Isocrates,§  of  such 
reputation,  that  they  could  not  reside  in  their  native 

*In  (he  year  400  B.  C. 

t  Called  also  (he  Sacred  war,  from  357  till  347  B.  C. 

$  See  his  Philippic  and  Olynthiac  orations. 

§  Isocrat.  Panegyr.  Op.  p.  71. 


THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY.  247 

cities.  "  Formerly,"  says  he  in  another  place,* 
"  there  was  no  such  thing  as  mercenaries ;  now  the 
situation  of  Greece  is  such,  that  it  would  be  far  easi- 
er to  raise  an  army  of  vagabonds  than  of  citizens." 
The  natural  consequence  of  this  state  of  things  was, 
that  he  who  had  the  most  money,  had  also  the  most 
power.  He  could  raise  an  army  at  will.  But  on 
how  uncertain  a  foundation  did  this  power  repose  ? 
The  rich  man  can  be  outbid  by  the  rich  ;  and  Greece 
learned,  what  Carthage  learned  also  with  a  more  melan- 
choly certainty,f  that  a  state  which  trusts  to  mercenary 
troops,  must  finally  tremble  before  them.  "  Unless 
we  are  careful,"  says  Isocrates  to  Philip,:}:  "  to  pro- 
vide for  the  support  of  these  people  by  establish- 
ing colonies  of  them,  they  will  soon  collect  in  vast 
troops,  and  be  more  formidable  to  the  Hellenes,  than 
the  barbarians."^ 

We  have  already  remarked,  that  in  the  eyes  of 
the  Greeks,  the  navy  was  more  important  than  the 
army.  They  very  early  distinguished  ships  of  war 
from  merchant  vessels  ;  of  which  the  consequence 
was,  that,  as  the  former  belonged  to  the  state,  to  build 
and  fit  out  fleets  was  entirely  a  public  concern.  Yet 
to  judge  correctly  of  the  condition  and  progress  of 
naval  science  among  the  Greeks,  we  must  not  forget, 
that  the  scene  of  action  for  their  squadrons  was  and 
continued  to  be,  limited  to  the  ^gean  and  Ionian  seas. 
The  expedition  of  Athens  against  Syracuse,  is  the 
most  distant  which  was  ever  undertaken  by  any 

*Isocrat.  Or.  ad  Phil.  Op.  p.  101. 
t  In  the  wars  with  the  mercenaries,  240—237  B.  C. 
{ Isocrat.  ad  Philip.  Op.  p.  106. 

§  We  learn  from  Xenophon's  retreat,  that  they  were  formidable  to  their 
own  commanders  ;  just  as  were  the  Swiss  at  Milan. 


248  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

Grecian  fleet  of  the  mother  country  ;  with  what  suc- 
cess is  known.  Even  the  Black  sea,  though  open  to 
their  vessels  of  commerce,  was  hardly  visited  by  their 
gallies  of  war,  because  no  occasion  ever  required  it. 
The  seas  which  they  navigated  were  full  of  islands ; 
it  was  never  difficult  to  find  landing-places  and  har- 
bours ;  and  the  naval  expeditions  were  not  much 
more  than  passages  by  sea.  Farther  5  Greece,  especially 
the  most  cultivated  eastern  part  of  it,  did  not  abound 
in  wood  ;  and  though  some  of  the  western  or  inland 
districts*  were  better  provided  with  it,  the  rivers, 
which  were  hardly  more  than  mountain  streams, 
afforded  little  opportunity  for  the  transportation  of 
timber.  The  cities,  therefore,  which  built  fleets,  were 
obliged  to  seek  their  timber  at  a  distance ;  we  know 
of  Athens,  that  it  imported  what  it  needed  from 
Thrace.f  The  expense  was  therefore  necessarily 
great ;  none  but  the  richest  cities  were  able  to  bear 
them  ;  and  hence  it  is  easy  to  see,  that  limitations 
were  produced,  which  make  the  exertions  of  several 
states  for  their  navy,  appear  to  us  in  a  very  extraor- 
dinary light.  Finally ;  the  manning  of  the  fleets 
was  attended  with  peculiar  difficulties.  Two  kinds 
of  men,  mariners  and  soldiers,  were  employed.  The 
latter  were  citizens,  and  belonged  to  the  militia  ;  but 
according  to  the  earlier  regulations,  the  citizens  were 
not  obliged  to  do  service  on  board  of  the  ships.  Slaves 
were  used  in  part,  especially  for  the  oars ;  and  in 
part  foreigners  were  hired.  Such  is  the  description 
given  by  Isocrates.  "  Formerly,"  says  he,f  "  in  the 
better  times  of  Athens,  foreigners  and  slaves  were 

*  As  Acarnania  and  Arcadia.  t  Thucyd.  iv.  108. 

t  Isocrat.  de  Pace,  Op.  p.  169.     See  Scheffer  de  Milit.  Naut.  ii.  3. 


THE    ARMY  AND  NAVY.  249 

used  for  the  management  of  the  vessels ;  but  cit- 
izens performed  service  in  arms.  -  Now  the  case 
is  reversed  ;  those  of  the  city  are  compelled  to  serve 
as  mariners,*  while  the  soldiers  consist  of  mercena- 
ries." The  manning  of  the  fleets  was  therefore  at- 
tended with  great  expense  ;  and  it  is  known  respect- 
ing them  from  the  Peloponnesian  war,  that  Sparta 
could  not  have  borne  them  but  for  the  alliance  and 
subsidies  of  Persia. 

These  causes  are  sufficient  to  limit  our  expecta- 
tions of  the  naval  affairs  of  the  Grecians.  Yet  here, 
also,  the  different  epochs  must  be  distinguished. 

We  learn  of  Homer  and  of  the  Argonautic  poets, 
that  the  Greeks  even  in  the  heroic  age  had   ships, 
which  were  fitted  out  for  distant  voyages.     The  pira- 
cy, which  before  that  period  had  been  so  common, 
must  have  made  it  necessary  for  ships  to  be  prepared, 
not  only  for  carrying  freight,  but  for  fighting.     These 
vessels  were  called  long,  by  way  of  distinguishing 
them  from  the  more  ancient,  round  ones,  which  were 
fit  only  for  the  transportation  of  merchandise  ;  though 
we  would  by  no  means  deny,  that  the  former  were 
also  used  for  the  purposes  of  commerce.     It  was  char- 
acteristic of  them,  that  all  the  rowers  sat  in  one  line. 
In  such  times  of  insecurity,  fast  sailing  is  the  chief  merit 
of  a  vessel ;  be  it  for  the  attack  or  for  flight.     This 
must  have  been  promoted  in  the  lengthened  vessels, 
both  by  the  form  itself,  and  the  increased  number  of 
rowers ;    which  gradually  rose  from  twenty  to  fifty 
and  even  more.     Hence  there  was  a  particular  class 

*  Especially  the  Inquilini.    See  above,  p.  231. 
32 


250  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

of  ships,  which  derived  their  name  from  that  circum- 
stance.* 

But  the  incident  which  made  a  real  and  the  only 
epoch  in  the  history  of  Grecian  naval  architecture,  is 
the  invention  of  the  triremes.  They  were  distinguished 
by  the  triple  order  of  benches  for  rowing,  placed  one 
above  the  other,  f  It  thus  became  necessary  to  build 
them  much  higher ;  and  though  swiftness  may  have 
been  carefully  regarded,  strength  and  firmness  must 
have  been  viewed  as  of  equal  importance.  But 
even  before  the  Macedonian  times,  and  always  after 
them,  the  chief  strength  of  the  Grecian  fleet  lay  in 
the  triremes,  just  as  that  of  modern  fleets  in  ships  of 
the  line  of  the  second  and  third  rate. 

'  The  structure  of  the  triremes  would  alone  warrant 
the  inference,  that  a  naval  force,  that  is,  a  squadron 
destined  solely  for  war,  and  possessed  by  the  state. 
did  not  exist  in  Greece  till  after  these  were  invented. 
But  there  is  in  ThucydidesJ  a  passage,  which  in 
my  opinion  settles  this  point  beyond  a  doubt.  <f  When, 
after  the  abolition  of  monarchies,  the  cities  became 
more  wealthy,  the  Greeks  began  to  build  fleets,  and  to 
pay  more  attention  to  the  sea.  The  Corinthians  were 
the  first  to  change  the  ships  according  to  our  present 
form ;  for  in  Greece  the  first  triremes  were  built  at 
Corinth ;  and  it  was  the  ship-builder  Aminocles  of 
Corinth,  who  built  for  the  Samians  four  (such)  vessels. 

*  The  {r6»T»*«»T«gw.  See  Schcffer  de  Varietate  Nav.  in  Gronov.  Thes. 
xi.  p.  752. 

t  Sclieffer  de  Milit.  Naval,  ii.  2.    I  believe  this  point,  once  so  much  con- 
tested, is  now  no  longer  doubted  ;  although  uncertainty  still  exists  respecting 
the  order  of  the  rows.    Compare  the  prints  and  illustrations  in  Antichitk  d 
Ercolano,  T.  v.  at  the  end. 
»  4  Thucyd.  i.  13. 


THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY.  251 

But  it  was  about  three  hundred  years  before  the  end  of 
this  war,*  that  Aminoeles  came  to  the  Samians.  The 
oldest  naval  battle  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  was 
fought  between  the  Corinthians  and  the  Corcyraeans  ; 
since  that  time,  two  hundred  and  sixty  years  have 
elapsed.'?f 

This  testimony,  more  important  than  all  the  ac- 
counts of  later  grammarians  and  compilers,  proves 
that  it  was  in  the  seventh  century  that  the  Grecian 
cities  began  to  support  fleets.  The  account  of  the 
great  historian  is  made  much  clearer  by  the  inquiries 
respecting  Grecian  commerce,^  which  show  that  the 
same  period  beheld  the  seeds  of  Grecian  cities,  planted 
on  the  seacoast  from  Asia  to  Sicily,  spring  up  and 
flourish  in  the  genial  beams  of  liberty.  The  year,  it 
is  true,  is  not  mentioned,  in  which  the  first  triremes 
were  built  in  Corinth  ;  but  the  whole  connexion  shows, 
that  the  invention  was  still  recent  in  the  age  of  Ami- 
nodes  ;  and  as  the  first  naval  battle  between  the 
Greeks  was  fought  forty  years  later,  it  is  obvious, 
that  they  were  then  but  beginning  to  support  fleets. 

But  at  the  same  time  we  must  confess  that  naval 
architecture,  after  this  first  great  step,  made  no  fur- 
ther considerable  advances  before  the  Macedonian 
age.  Thucydides  says  this  expressly ;  for  he  observes, 
that  the  Corinthians  gave  the  ships  the  form  which 
they  continued  to  have  in  his  time.  Neither  did  it 
at  once  become  a  general  custom  to  build  triremes.  Till 
the  Persian  wars,  the  use  of  the  long  ships  and  those  of 
fifty  oars  was  the  most  usual ;  the  Syracusans  and  Cor- 
cyraeans were,  about  this  time,  the  first  to  have  whole 
fleets  consisting  of  triremes.  ||  In  these,  many  improve- 

*  About  700  years  B.  C.  t  About  640  years  B.  C. 

i  See  above,  p.  144.  ||  Thucyd.  i.  14. 


2,52  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

ments  may  have  been  made ;  but  as  no  essential 
change  took  place,  we  leave  this  subject  and  many 
others  relating  to  naval  matters,  to  the  industry  of 
the  antiquarian. 

We  would  only  add  a  few  remarks  on  the  naval 
tactics  of  the  Greeks.  Did  they  receive  a  scientific 
form  earlier  than  the  military  ?  And  if  so,  through 
whom,  and  by  what  means  ?  And  here  the  reader 
must  not  forget,  that  we  are  treating  of  the  times  pre- 
vious to  the  dominion  of  Macedonia. 

It  is  apparent  from  the  preceding  observations, 
that  the  Greeks  had  more  reason  to  improve  their 
naval  than  their  military  tactics.  They  were  often 
obliged  to  contend  with  fleets,  not  only  superior  to 
theirs  in  number,  but  also  in  the  excellence  of  the 
vessels  ;  for  in  the  Persian  wars,  the  squadrons  of  the 
PluEnicians  were  arrayed  against  them.  Even  when 
the  victory  had  been  gained,  the  safety  of  Greece  still 
depended  on  its  maritime  force.  This  formed  the 
foundation  of  the  greatness  of  the  first  of  the  Grecian 
cities.  Naval  actions,  more  than  battles  by  land, 
decided  the  destiny  of  the  states.  What  circumstan- 
ces and  relations  could  be  more  favourable  to  the 
display  of  great  talents  ?  And  where  may  we  indulge 
greater  expectations,  especially  when  we  look  through 
the  lists  of  the  men  to  whom  Athens  and  Sparta 
entrusted  the  command  of  their  squadrons? 

We  can  best  commence  the  history  of  the  naval 
tactics  of  Greece,  at  the  period  in  which  we  have 
descriptions  of  their  engagements  at  sea.  The  earli- 
est account  which  we  possess,  is  of  the  battle  which 
took  place  near  the  island  Lada,  off  Miletus,  between 
the  Ionian  fleet  and  that  of  the  Phoenicians  in  the 


THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY.  253 

service  of  Persia.  The  navy  of  the  lonians  had  then 
reached  its  best  state  :  it  consisted  of  not  less  than 
three  hundred  and  fifty  triremes,  while  that  of  the 
Phoenicians  was  almost  twice  as  large.  We  find  that 
an  artful  position  was  taken  in  the  days  before  the 
battle.  In  the  divisions  of  the  first  line,  there  were 
intervals,  through  which  those  of  the  second  could 
sail.*  But  the  battle  itself  is  not  instructive,  as  the 
Persians  previously  succeeded  in  dividing  the  fleet  of 
the  allies. 

When  Xerxes  invaded  Greece,  Themistocles  gain- 
ed the  glory  of  being  his  country's  preserver  by  sea. 
But  it  must  not  be  forgotten,  that  though  he  was  the 
commander  of  the  Athenians,  he  had  not  the  general 
command  of  the  allies.  This  post  he  had  the  pru- 
dence and  moderation  to  yield,  at  least  nominally,  to 
Eurybiades  the  Spartan,  f  Still  it  was  Themistocles 
who  directed  the  whole,  not  by  commands,  but  by 
persuasion  ;  and  in  this  art  who  was  equal  to  him  ? 
Twice  he  ventured  to  meet  the  much  superior  navy  of 
the  Persians ;  first  at  Artemisium,  then  at  Salamis. 
But  in  both  instances  he  remedied  his  inferiority,  not 
so  much  by  artful  manoeuvres,  as  by  choosing  his  situ- 
ation. He  would  not  meet  the  immense  Persian  fleet 
in  the  open  sea  ;  where  the  wings  of  the  enemy  would 
have  unavoidably  extended  beyond  his  own.  Hence  he 
chose  his  first  position  at  the  northern  entrance  of  the 
strait  of  Euboea,$  and  after  the  indecisive  engagements 

*  Herod,  vi.  12,  etc.  Here  too  we  have  an  instance  of  how  little  could 
be  effected  by  the  commander. 

t  On  this  and  what  follows,  consult  the  interesting  narrative  of  Herodo- 
tus, viii.  2. 

t  The  Euripus,  as  it  was  called.  The  Persians  sent  a  part  of  their  squad- 
ron round  the  island,  to  block  up  the  southern  entrance,  and  thus  cut  oft"  the 


254  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

of  Artemisium,  retreated  through  those  straits  to  the 
Saronic  bay  ;  where  the  nook  between  Attica  and  the 
island  of  Salamis  offered  a  station  still  more  secure. 
In  such  a  position,  where  the  enemy  is  expected  in 
close  array,  manreuvres  are  not  further  needed ;  but 
the  relation  of  Herodotus  leaves  us  in  doubt,  whether 
most  to  admire  the  discernment,  or  the  prudence  and 
adroitness  of  the  commander. 

Of  the  later  naval  engagements  which  took  place 
in  the  course  of  those  wars,  we  have  only  general 
accounts.  The  Greeks  beat  the  Persians  too  easily. 
Where  an  enemy  is  despised,  the  art  of  war  cannot 
make  much  progress. 

We  have  particular  accounts*  of  the  naval  fight, 
which,  at  the  beginning  of  the  Peloponnesiau  war, 
took  place  between  the  Corcyraeans  and  Corinthians ; 
and  after  which,  both  nations  erected  a  trophy.  The 
fleet  of  the  Corinthians  formed  one  line  ;  that  of  the 
Corcyraeans,  on  the  contrary,  was  drawn  up  in  three 
divisions.  But  the  historian  remarks,  that  no  man- 
oeuvres took  place  ;  they  grappled  at  once,  and  ship 
fought  singly  with  ship.  All  that  we  read  of  the  fleet  of 
the  Corcyraeans,  gives  us  no  high  opinion  of  their  skill 
in  naval  tactics.  In  a  second  naval  engagement  with 
the  Peloponnesians,  they  showed  still  less  adroitness, 
and  would  have  been  ruined,  had  not  the  division  of 
the  Athenians  covered  their  retreatf 

The  naval  tactics  which  were  now  known  to  the 
Greeks,  consisted  chiefly  in  sailing  round,  and  sailing 
through  the  enemy's  line.J  The  object  of  the  first 

retreat  of  tbe  Greeks;  but  their  squadron  was  destroyed  by  a  storm. 
Herod.  1.  c. 

•Thucyd.  i.  47,  etc.  t  Tbucyd.  iii.  77,  78. 

J  ni{.TX«r»  and  Juan-Xir*.     Thucyd.  vii.  36.    Xenoph.  H.  Gr.  i.  Op.  p.  446. 


THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY.  255 

was,  to  extend  the  line  beyond  the  opposite  wings ; 
of  the  second,  to  break  through  the  hostile  line.  To 
prevent  this,  the  other  fleet  was  drawn  up  in  two  lines, 
both  with  intervals,  so  that  the  divisions  of  the  second 
line  could  pass  through  the  intervals  in  the  first,  and 
thus  assist  them,  when  assistance  was  needed.  This 
order  was  particularly  understood  by  the  Athenians, 
who  also  adopted  another  method  of  attack,  not  with 
the  prow,  but  obliquely  from  the  side ;  so  that  the  oars 
of  the  enemy's  ship  were  broken,  and  the  ship  thus 
made  unmanageable.  In  those  matters,  the  Athenians 
were  superior  not  only  to  the  Spartans,  but  even  to 
the  Syracusans.* 

The  two  last  years  of  the  Peloponnesian  war  were 
particularly  remarkable  for  naval  encounters  ;  but  for 
a  knowledge  of  tactics,  the  engagement  between  the 
Spartans  under  Callicratidas,  and  the  Athenians,  near 
Lesbos,  alone  deserves  notice ;  for  it  gives  us  an  ex- 
ample of  the  management  of  a  squadron  in  a  double 
row.  The  Athenian  fleet  was  drawn  up  in  two  lines, 
both  on  the  right  and  the  left  wing.  Each  wing  con- 
sisted of  two  divisions,  each  division  of  fifteen  ships  ; 
and  was  supported  by  equal  divisions  in  the  second 
line ;  the  centre  was  composed  of  one  line.  This 
order,  says  Xenophon,f  was  chosen,  that  the  fleet 
might  not  be  broken  through.  The  Spartan  fleet,  on 
the  contrary,  formed  but  one  line  ;  prepared  for  sail- 
ing round  or  breaking  through  the  enemy.  The  bat- 
tle was  obstinate ;  it  was  long  before  the  Athenians 
gained  the  victory,  as  Callicratidas  fell.  His  steers- 
man, before  the  battle,  had  advised  him  to  retreat,  on 

*  See  the  discription  of  the  fight  in  Thucyd.  1.  «. 
tXen.Op.  p.  44«. 


256  CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

account  of  the  greatly  superior  force  of  the  Athenians. 
"  Were  I  to  fall,  Sparta  could  exist  as  well,"  was  his 
answer. 

The  naval  tactics  of  the  ancients  were  further  im- 
proved in  the  wars  between  the  Romans  and  Cartha- 
ginians, and  under  the  Ptolomies.  In  forming  an 
opinion  respecting  them,  two  things  should  not  be 
forgotten.  First ;  less  depended  on  the  winds  than 
in  modern  tactics  ;  for  the  triremes  were  moved  rath- 
er by  oars  than  sails.  Secondly ;  where  battles  were 
always  fought  near  at  hand,  and  the  ships  always  ran 
along  side  of  each  other,  the  manoeuvres  of  the  fleets 
could  not  be  so  various  or  so  important,  as  where  the 
ships  remain  at  a  certain  distance,  and  manoeuvres  are 
performed  during  the  whole  action.  But  though  the  naval 
tactics  of  the  moderns  are  more  difficult  and  intricate, 
we  must  not  infer  that  the  naval  battles  of  the  ancients 
were  comparatively  insignificant.  They  decided  wars 
in  ancient  times  much  more  frequently  than  in  mod- 
ern ;  and  if  the  loss  of  men  is  to  be  taken  into  consid- 
eration, it  might  easily  be  shown,  that  one  naval  battle 
of  the  ancients  often  swept  away  more  men,  than  three 
or  even  more  in  our  age. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.          257 


CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS. 

THE  character  of  the  statesman  in  republics  like 
the  Grecian  must,  in  many  respects,  differ  from  the 
statesman  of  the  modern  European  monarchies ;  and 
can  be  sketched  with  difficulty.  Yet  it  is  necessary  to 
form  a  distinct  conception  of  the  sphere  of  action,  in 
which  those  men  exerted  themselves,  who  justly  form 
the  pride  of  antiquity.  But  it  may  seem  the  less  su- 
perfluous to  enter  into  this  subject,  since  we  shall  thus 
gain  an  opportunity  of  forming  more  correct  opinions 
respecting  several  of  those  men.  Though  Athens 
was  their  home  and  the  theatre  of  their  actions,  they 
were  the  property  of  Greece  ;  and  are  here  to  be  held 
up  as  the  representatives  of  so  many  others,  of  whom 
history  has  preserved  for  us  less  information,  because 
they  made  their  appearance  in  cities  of  less  renown. 

The  different  character  of  the  Grecian  states  ne- 
cessarily exercised  an  influence  on  the  character  of  the 
statesmen,  who  appeared  in  them.  Where  the  law 
exercised  unlimited  power  as  it  did  in  Sparta,  there 
was  no  room  for  demagogues  like  those  of  Athens. 
But  difference  of  time  was  as  influential  as  the  dif- 
ference of  constitutions.  How  then  could  it  be  other- 
wise expected,  than  that  with  the  increasing  culture 
of  the  nation,  there  should  be  a  change  in  the  influ- 
ence and  the  conduct  of  those  who  were  at  its  head. 
33 


258  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

In  the  age  of  Solon,  men  first  appeared  in  the 
mother  country,  who  were  worthy  of  the  name  of 
statesmen.  Many  had  before  that  period  been  in 
possession  of  power,  and  not  unfrequently  had  be- 
come tyrants  ;  but  none  can  be  called  statesmen,  as 
the  word  itself  denotes,  except  those,  who  as  freemen 
conduct  the  affairs  of  cultivated  nations. 

In  Solon's  age,*  the  relations  of  the  Grecian  states 
had  not  yet  become  intricate.  No  one  of  them  exer- 
cised sway  over  the  rest ;  and  no  one  endeavoured  to 
do  so  ;  even  the  importance  of  Sparta  in  the  Pelo- 
ponnesus was  founded  on  her  attempts  to  liberate  the 
cities  from  the  yoke  of  the  tyrants.  In  such  a  period, 
when  the  individual  states  were  chiefly  occupied  with 
their  own  concerns  and  those  of  their  nearest  neigh- 
bours, the  statesman's  sphere  of  action  could  not  for 
any  length  of  time  be  extended  beyond  the  internal 
government  and  administration.  The  seven  wise 
men,  from  whom  the  Greeks  date  the  age  in  which 
politics  began  to  be  a  science,  were  not  speculative 
philosophers,  but  rulers,  presidents,  and  counsellors 
of  states  ;  rulers,  as  Periander  of  Corinth,  aud  Pitta- 
cus  of  Mitylene ;  presidents,  as  Solon  of  Athens, 
Chilo  of  Sparta,  Cleobulus  of  Lindus  ;  counsellors, 
as  Bias  and  Thales  of  various  princes  and  cities.f  Of 
these,  Solon  is  the  only  one  with  whom  we  are  much 
acquainted;  he  is  known  as  a  lawgiver,  and  also  as 
a  soldier  and  poet.  But  it  was  not  till  after  the  wars 
with  Persia,  that  the  men  appeared,  whom  we  can 
call  statesmen  in  the  modern  sense  of  the  word.  For 

*  Between  600  and  550  years  B.  C. 

t  See  Diog.  Laert.  i.  c.  1 — 5.  The  passages  which  relate  to  them,  have 
already  been  collected  and  illustrated  by  Meiner  and  other  writers  on  the 
history  of  philosophy.  Meiner's  Geschichte  der  Wissenschaften,  i.  p.  43. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  259 

it  was  then  for  the  first  time,  when  a  contest  arose 
with  a  nation  to  all  appearances  infinitely  superior  in 
power,  and  the  question  of  existence  was  at  issue,  and 
when  good  counsel  was  not  less  important  than  action, 
that  a  greater  political  interest  was  excited,  which 
employed  the  strongest  minds.  And  this  interest 
was  not  and  could  not  be  transitory.  For  it  gave 
birth  in  Greece  to  the  idea  of  supremacy,  which  a 
single  state  obtained  and  preserved  for  nearly  seventy 
years ;  and  which,  as  we  have  already  remarked,* 
became  the  foundation  of  its  greatness  and  its  splen- 
dor. Political  affairs  and  negotiations  were  now  to 
be  judged  of  by  a  new  criterion.  The  foreign  rela- 
tions were  now  the  most  important ;  and  it  was  in  con- 
ducting them,  that  the  first  statesmen  were  employ- 
ed. But  their  sphere  of  action  was  by  no  means  lim- 
ited to  Athens  alone ;  it  was  in  some  measure  extend- 
ed over  the  whole  of  Greece. 

The  object  of  these  men  was,  and  could  not  but  be, 
to  gain  influence  in  a  community,  in  which  some  ine- 
quality was  produced  by  birth  (as  certain  families, 
like  those  of  the  Eupatridae,  were  held  superior  to  the 
rest,  forming  a  sort  of  nobility,  and  even  a  political 
party,)  yet  in  which  birth  had  very  little  influence 
on  future  consequence.  In  Athens  as  in  England, 
certain  families  or  classes  of  families  advocated  cer- 
tain political  ideas  and  principles,  by  means  of  which 
the  democratic  and  aristocratic  parties  were  formed, 
and  kept  up  amidst  a  variety  of  changes.  But  the 
history  of  Athens  still  abounds  in  proofs,  that  the 
influence  possessed  over  the  people,  by  no  means 
depended  on  birth.  Here,  as  in  the  other  similar 
states,  there  were  two  methods  of  gaining  such  influ- 

*See  above,  p.  151,  &c. 


260  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

ence  ;  by  deeds  in  war,  and  in  peace  by  counsel.  In 
some  periods,  military  glory  was  the  most  esteemed ; 
in  others,  influence  could  be  gained  without  it.  In 
the  early  period,  during  the  war  with  the  Persians, 
the  commanders  of  the  armies  were  also  states- 
men :  and  how  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  But  when 
the  affairs  of  peace  grew  more  important,  a  new 
course  was  opened  to  the  man  of  genius.  Yet  it  was 
long  before  the  statesman  as  such  could  rise  in  Athens ; 
the  qualifications  of  a  general  long  remained  essential 
to  his  influence ;  though  the  age  finally  came  in 
which  the  former  began  to  be  of  more  consequence 
than  the  latter.  We  shall  not  therefore  expose  our- 
selves to  the  danger  of  being  misapprehended,  if  we 
distinguish  the  three  periods  from  one  another  ;  the 
first,  in  which  the  statesman  was  subordinate  to  the  gen- 
eral ;  the  next,  in  which  the  general  was  subordinate  to 
the  statesman  ;  and  the  third,  in  which  the  statesman 
acted  independently  of  the  general.  Without  any 
elaborate  argument,  the  reader  will  immediately  per- 
ceive, that  here  a  certain  relation  exists  to  the  increas- 
ing culture  of  the  nation  ;  the  mere  military  comman- 
der may  rule  a  nation  of  barbarians  ;  but  the  states- 
man who  has  no  pretensions  to  the  qualifications  of  a 
general,  finds  no  place  except  among  a  cultivated 
people.  To  mark  more  distinctly  the  limits  of  the 
three  periods,  we  will  call  the  first,  that  of  Themis- 
tocles,  the  second  that  of  Pericles,  and  the  third  that 
of  Demosthenes. 

In  the  first  age  it  is  easy  to  perceive,  that 
the  qualities  of  a  commander  were  of  more  impor- 
tance than  those  of  a  statesman.  The  state  was  to 
be  saved  on  the  field  of  battle ;  and  yet  prudence 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  261 

was  needed  for  its  safety  no  less  than  courage.  The- 
mistocles  himself  may  be  regarded  as  the  represen- 
tative of  this  period.  Destined  by  nature  to  become 
a  demagogue  rather  than  a  general,  he  was  still  forced 
by  the  character  and  the  spirit  of  his  age  to  build 
his  political  influence  on  his  military  fame.  He  owed 
his  greatness  to  the  Persian  war  and  Salamis.  But 
as  a  general,  he  is  perhaps  the  most  perfect  model  of 
a  popular  leader,  who  effects  less  by  commands  than 

t  persuasion  and  knowledge  of  men.  His  nation 
cognised  in  him  the  most  prudent  of  its  citizens  ; 
and  he  understood  his  nation  better  than  any  one, 
not  merely  collectively,  but  individually.  Hence 
proceeded  his  influence.  "  He  was  most  distinguish- 
ed," says  Thucydides,*  t(  for  the  strength  of  his  nat- 
ural powers  ;  and  for  this  he  is  the  most  admirable  of 
men.  His  understanding  made  him  the  most  acute 
observer  of  every  unexpected  incident,  without  any 
previous  or  subsequent  inquiries ;  and  gave  him  the 
most  accurate  foresight  of  the  future.  Whatever 
he  undertook,  he  was  able  to  execute ;  and  to  form  a 
true  judgment  on  whatever  was  new  to  him.  In 
doubtful  matters,  he  could  best  tell,  what  was  to  be 
done  or  to  be  avoided ;  and,  in  a  word,  he  was  the 
first  for  strength  of  natural  powers,  and  for  prompt- 
ness of  decision."  Happy  the  state  which  is  favour- 
ed with  such  a  citizen !  Even  in  great  dangers  it 
has  no  need  to  fear.  He  who  considers  the  whole 
history  of  Themistocles,  will  admire  him  less  for  his 
deeds  of  heroism,  than  for  the  manner  in  which  he 
preserved  the  courage  of  his  nation,  and  in  the  decisive 
moment,  brought  them  to  the  decisive  measure,  rather 

*Thacyd.  i.  138. 


262  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

to  enter  their  ships  and  desert  their  native  city,  than 
subject  themselves  to  the  Persian  yoke.  Such  things 
can  be  done  only  by  a  man  of  superior  genius.  It  is 
true  that  his  great  talents  were  united  to  a  character, 
which  was  not  entirely  free  from  selfishness.*  But 
the  interests  of  his  country  were  never  sacrificed  to 
his  private  advantage.  And  in  judging  of  Themisto- 
cles,  it  must  never  be  forgotten,  that  he  was  the  first, 
who,  without  family,  rose  to  eminence  in  Athens,  and 
destroyed  the  power  of  the  nobility. f  This  couki 
never  be  forgiven  him  ;  and  it  is  not  strange,  that, 
persecuted  as  he  was  by  Sparta,  he  should  have  been 
overwhelmed  by  his  foreign  and  domestic  enemies.  But 
when  he  quitted  ungrateful  Athens,  his  object  was  al- 
ready accomplished.  He  had  practically  demonstrated 
that  he  understood  the  art  which  he  vaunted,  of  making 
of  a  small  state  a  large  one.  The  reception  with  which 
he  met  in  Persia,  does  no  less  honour  to  him  than  to 
Artaxerxes  ;  and  although  it  is  doubtful  whether  he 
did  not  escape  serving  against  his  country  by  a  volun- 
tary death,!  it  is  certain  that  he  did  nothing  which 
could  sully  his  fame. 

If  Themistocles  shows  how  talents  could  rise  in  a 
state  like  Athens,  Aristides  is  an  example  of  the  in- 
fluence of  character.  His  influence  and  his  share  in 

*See  in  particular  the  relation  of  the  corruption  of  the  Grecian  generals 
by  the  Euboeans.  Herod,  viii.  5. 

t  Plutarch,  in  Themistoc.  Op.  1.  p.  438. 

I  "  He  died,"  says  Thucydides,  "  of  disease.  Some  say  he  died  of  poi- 
son, which  he  look  because  he  could  not  perform  all  that  he  had  promised 
the  king."  Thucyd.  i.  138.  Thucydides  says  nothing  of  the  tradition,  that  he 
destroyed  himself  by  drinking  bull's  blood.  Plutarch.  Op.  i.  p.  498.  The 
story  seems  therefore  to  have  received  additions  ;  Thucydides  speaks  so 
decisively,  that  he  could  hardly  have  doubted  the  natural  death  of  Themi«- 
focles. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  263 

public  business  were  grounded  on  the  conviction  of 
his  honesty  and  disinterestedness ;  although  he  also 
needed  the  support  of  military  glory.  As  early  as  at 
Marathon,  he,  as  one  of  the  ten  generals,  stood  by  the 
side  of  Miltiades  ;  and  had  himself  the  magnanimity 
to  yield  to  him  the  supreme  command.*  At  Plataese, 
he  was  the  leader  of  the  Athenians ;  and  after  the 
liberties  of  Greece  had  been  rescued  by  this  victory, 
and  Athens  had  established  its  supremacy  in  the  al- 
liance against  Persia,  he  was  appointed,  at  the  request 
of  the  allies  to  superintend  the  general  exchequer, 
and  performed  the  most  difficult  office  of  fixing 
for  each  of  them  its  proportion  of  the  annual  tribute,  f 
Thus  Athens  owed  to  him  not  much  less  than  to 
Themistocles,  who  had  been  his  rival  from  youth. 
If  political  and  moral  principles  rendered  the  union 
of  the  two  impossible  (nothing  but  the  urgent  neces- 
sities of  the  country  effected  it  for  a  short  time),  it 
must  not  be  forgotten,  that  Aristides,  though  probably 
of  no  opulent  family,^  belonged  by  his  birth  to  the 
class  of  the  Eupatridae. 

Cimon,  the  son  of  Miltiades,  the  third  whom  we 
should  name  in  this  first  period,  connects  it,  as  it  were, 
with  the  succeeding.  He  too  was  more  of  a  general 
than  a  statesman.  His  policy  had  but  one  object, 
continual  war  against  the  Persians,  as  the  means  of 

*  Plutarch.  Op.  i.  p.  489. 

t  "  Arislides,"  says  Plutarch,  "  made  inquiries  respecting  the  territory  and 
revenue  of  the  several  states  ;  and  fixed  accordingly  the  tribute  of  each  state 
to  general  satisfaction.  Plutarch.  Op.  ii.  p.  535.  But  even  before  that  time 
it  was  his  character,  which  had  gained  for  Athens  the  supremacy.  For 
the  allies  desired  a  president  like  him  ;  and  even  invited  him  to  assume  the 
supreme  command.  Plutarch,  ii.  p.  532.  He  was  at  that  time  general  of  the 
Athenians  with  Cimon. 

tHow  uncertain  this  was,  appears  from  Plutarch,  iii.  p.  478. 


264  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

preserving  the  unity  of  the  Greeks.  This  he  pursued 
through  his  whole  life,  from  the  battle  of  Salamis,  (and 
he  had  been  the  first  to  give  the  example  of  deserting 
the  city  and  entering  the  ships)  ;*  till  shortly  before 
the  glorious  peace  which  he  had  promoted,  but  did  not 
live  to  see  concluded.!  He  seems,  therefore,  to  have 
taken  no  farther  share  in  the  internal  affairs,  than  he 
was  forced  to  do  by  his  situation.  For  descended 
from  a  noble  family,  and  a  pupil  of  Aristides,  pos- 
sessing the  principles  of  his  political  instructer,  he 
desired  the  favour  of  the  people,  only  as  the  means 
of  preserving  his  character  as  a  military  commander ; 
and  yet  he  did  not  escape  the  lot  which  had  fallen  to 
Themistocles  and  Aristides.  But  his  military  fame 
procured  his  speedy  return  ;  and  confirmed  him,  as  it 
increased,  in  the  possession  of  his  place.  It  was  by 
the  means  which  Cimon  used  to  preserve  the  favour 
of  the  people,  that  he  held  a  place,  as  we  have  observ- 
ed, between  the  first  and  second  period.  His  liberality 
was  not  confined  to  citizens  alone  ;  even  he  began  to 
attract  attention  by  public  improvements,  made  for 
the  most  part  at  his  own  expense.  Themistocles  had 
fortified  the  city  and  the  Piraeeus ;  and  Cimon  began 
to  ornament  them.  With  the  Persian  spoils  he  built 
a  part  of  the  walls  of  the  citadel.J  He  caused  the 
marshy  ground  at  its  side§  to  be  dried  and  paved ; 
he  prepared  an  abode  for  Plato  and  his  philosophy, 
by  converting  the  barren  field,  which  occupied  the 
site  of  the  Academy,  into  a  lovely,  well  watered 

*  Plutarch.  Op.  iii.  p.  181. 

t  The  peace  with  the  Persians,  449  B.  C.  at  which  time  the  Greeks  pre- 
scribed the  conditions,  which  Plutarch  has  preserved  for  us  in  a  citation  from 
the  popular  decree.  Op.  iii.  p.  202. 

}  Plutarch.  Op.  'iii.  p.  202.  §  Called  «/ 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  265 

grove ;  and  for  the  Athenians,  he  made  the  market- 
place their  most  favourite  place  of  resort,  by  planting 
it  with  plane-trees.*  He  was  intimately  acquainted 
with  the  artists  of  his  time,  especially  with  the  painter 
Poljgnotus  5  to  whose  art  and  patriotism,  the  Atheni- 
ans were  indebted  for  the  paintings  which  decorated 
the  most  celebrated  of  their  public  halls. f 

Cimon  may  therefore  justly  be  styled  the  precur- 
sor of  Pericles,  whose  name  we  use  to  designate  the 
second  period.  The  time  was  arrived,  wh«n  the 
arts  of  peace  were  to  flourish  no  less  than  those  of 
war ;  when  almost  every  branch  of  the  arts  and  of 
literature  were  to  put  forth  their  most  beautiful  and 
most  imperishable  blossoms. 

Under  such  circumstances,  and  in  a  republic,  of 
which  no  one  could  possess  the  direction  without 
understanding  the  means  of  winning  and  preserving 
the  respect  and  admiration  of  his  fellow-citizens,  it  is 
obvious,  that  new  qualities  were  necessary  in  the 
statesman,  and  new  requisitions  made  of  him.  The 
reciprocal  influence  which  exists  between  men  of 
genius  and  their  age,  is  perhaps  one  of  the  most 
interesting  inquiries,  for  which  history  presents  us  the 
materials.  When  we  survey  the  several  periods  in 
which,  at  a  greater  or  less  distance,  the  remarkable 
changes  of  individual  nations,  and  even  of  a  large 
part  of  mankind,  have  taken  place,  we  shall  always 
find  in  them  individual  men,  who  may  in  some  meas- 
ure be  regarded  as  the  representatives  of  their  age ; 
and  who  frequently  and  justly  lend  their  names  to  it. 

*  Plutarch.  1.  c. 

•    t  Plutarch  Op.  ii.  p.  178.     Hence  called  the  TCtriegated,   w«/*/Ax.     It  was 
adjoining  to  the  forum. 

34 


266  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

They  can  in  a  certain  degree  rise  above  their  age  ; 
but  they  do  not  the  less  remain  children  of  the  time 
in  which  they  live  ;  and  a  history  of  mankind,  as  con- 
tained in  the  history  of  these  leading  minds,  would 
perhaps  be  the  most  faithful  that  can  be  given.  He  who 
has  truly  delineated  Herrman  and  Caesar,  or  Gregory, 
or  Luther,  or  Frederic,  has  sketched  the  chief  traits 
of  their  respective  ages.  To  be  in  advance  of  one's 
age,  as  is  the  usual  mode  of  expression,  means  but  to 
understand  one's  age  correctly  in  all  its  bearings ; 
and  to  act  on  the  principles  which  result  from  such 
knowledge.  In  this  lies  the  secret  of  great  men,  that 
no  one  can  betray  them,  because  no  one  shares 
their  penetration,  or  rather  in  many  cases  their  pre- 
saging insight  into  the  future.  On  hearing  the  age 
of  Pericles  mentioned,  a  crowd  of  glorious  associations 
is  called  up ;  he  who  becomes  more  profoundly  ac- 
quainted with  it,  soon  finds  that  no  pure  ideal  of  per- 
fection then  existed.  To  behold  the. mere  citizen  of 
a  republic,  raising  his  nation,  and  by  means  of  his 
nation  all  mankind,  to  a  higher  position,  is  a  spectacle 
which  history  has  never  but  once  been  able,  under 
similar  circumstances,  to  repeat,  in  Lorenzo  the  Mag- 
nificent. Enviable  men,  around  whose  brows  the  un- 
fading laurel  twines  its  verdure  !  If  fame  in  succeed- 
ing generations,  if  the  grateful  remembrance  of  pos- 
terity is  no  vain  felicity,  who  would  not  willingly 
exchange  his  claims  for  yours  ? 

In  his  political  course,  Pericles  was  guided  by  a 
simple  principle ;  to  be  the  first  in  his  own  city, 
whilst  he  secured  to  it  the  first  place  among  cities. 
Its  political  preponderance  depended  on  the  preserva- 
tion of  its  supremacy  over  Greece  ;*  and  this  was  to 

*Sce  above,  p.  151. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.          £67 

be  preserved,  not  by  force  alone ;  but  by  every  thing 
which,  according  to  Grecian  ideas,  could  render  a  city 
illustrious.  Hence  he  felt  himself  the  necessity 
of  improving  his  mind  more  variously  than  had  hither- 
to been  common  in  Athens ;  and  he  availed  himself 
for  that  end  of  all  the  means  which  his  age  afforded 
him.  He  was  the  first  statesman,  who  felt  that  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  acquaintance  with  philosophy  was 
requisite ;  not  in  order  to  involve  his  mind  in  the 
intricacies  of  a  system,  but  to  exercise  himself  in 
thinking  with  freedom ;  and  he  became  the  pupil  of 
Anaxagoras.*  If  before  no  orators,  except  those 
appointed  by  the  state,  had  spoken  in  the  popular 
assemblies,  he  was  the  first,  who  came  forward  as  a 
voluntary  orator  ;f  and  the  study  of  eloquence  was 
necessary  for  him,  although  he  never  made  the 
duties  of  an  active  statesman  subordinate  to  those  of 
a  public  speaker.  Whilst  he  ornamented  Athens  by 
those  masterpieces  of  architecture  and  the  arts  of 
design,  he  was  not  the  patron,  but  the  personal  friend 
of  a  Phidias  and  similar  men ;  and  who  does  not 
know,  that  his  intimacy  with  Aspasia,  his  friend,  his 
mistress,  and  at  last  his  wife,  imparted  to  his  mind 
that  finer  culture,  which  he  would  have  looked  for  in 
vain  among  the  women  of  Athens.  But  all  this  he 
made  subservient  to  his  public  career.  He  desired  to 
be  altogether  a  statesman,  and  he  was  so.  "  There  was 
in  the  whole  city,"  says  Plutarch,J  "  but  one  street 
in  which  he  was  ever  seen ;  the  street,  which  led  to 
the  market-place  and  the  council-house.  He  declined 

*  In  proof  of  this  and  the  following  account,  consult  Plutarch  in  the  bi- 
ography of  Pericles.  Op.  T.  ii. 

t  Plutarch  makes  a  distinction  between  him  and  the  orators  appointed  by 
the  state  ;  1.  c.  p.  601.  See  Petit,  de  Leg.  Att.  iii.  3. 

}  Plutarch.  Op.  ii.  p.  601. 


268  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

all  invitations  to  banquets,  and  all  gay  assemblies  and 
company.     During  the  whole  period  of  his  adminis- 
tration, he  never  dined  at  the  table  of  a  friend ;  he 
did  but  just  make  his  appearance  at  the  nuptials  of 
his  nephew  Euryptolemus ;  but  immediately  after  the 
libation*  he  arose.     He  did  not  always  appear  even 
in  the  popular  assemblies ;  but  only  when  important 
business  was  to  be  transacted ;    smaller  concerns  he 
entrusted  to  his  friends   and    the   orators."      Thus 
Pericles  exhibited  a  model  of  a  statesman,   such  as 
Greece  had  never  yet  seen,  and  was  not  to  see  again. 
His  history  shows,  that  he  became  great  amidst  the 
collision  of  parties  ;  all  of  which  he  finally  annihilated  ; 
and  we  need  not  therefore  be  astonished,  if  the  opin- 
ions of  his  contemporaries  were  not  united  in  his  favour. 
We  learn  of  Plutarch,  f  how  zealously  the  comic  poets 
attacked  him.     But  he  has  gained   the  voice  of  one 
man,  whose  authority  surpasses  that  of  all  the  rest, 
the  voice  of  Thucydides.     "  So  long  as   he  presided 
over  the  state  in  peace,'7  says  the   historian,!  ((  he 
did  it   with   moderation ;    the   state  was   preserved 
in  its  integrity,  and  was  even  advanced  under  him 
to    its  highest    degree    of    greatness.       When    the 
war  broke  out,  he  showed   that  he  had  made  a  just 
calculation  of  his  strength.     The  first  in  dignity  and 
prudence,  he  was  superior  to  all  suspicion  of  corrup- 
tion ;  he  therefore  swayed  the  people  almost  at  will ; 
he  guided  them,  and  was  not  guided  by  them  ;  for  he 
did  not  speak  according  to  their  humour ;  but  often 

*  That  is,  at  the  beginning  of  the  repast.  These  little  traits  seem  to  me 
to  designate  the  man,  who  never  forgave  himself  any  thing.  What  nobler 
object  can  be  contemplated,  than  a  great  statesman,  who  living  entirely  for 
bis  high  calling,  and  living  worthily  of  it,  spares  only  moments  for  himself. 

J  As  e.  g.  Op.  ii.  p.  592.  J  Thucyd.  ii.  65. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  269 

opposed  them  with  dignity  and  even  with  vehemence. 
If  they  were  inclined  to  do  any  thing  unreasonably, 
he  knew  how  to  restrain  them  ;  if  they  suffered  their 
courage  to  sink  without  reason,  he  could  renew 
their  confidence.  His  administration  was  therefore 
nominally  the  government  of  the  people,  but  in  real- 
ity the  government  of  the  first  man."  To  a  character 
described  by  such  a  master,  no  additions  need  be 
made  ;  but  we  cannot  omit  to  observe,  that  Pericles, 
.though  so  great  as  a  statesman,  was  not  unmindful  of 
the  fame  of  military  command.  In  this  the  rule  of  his 
conduct  seems  to  have  been,  great  prudence,  and  to 
undertake  nothing  without  the  greatest  probability  of 
success  ;  and  such  was  the  confidence  reposed  in  him, 
that,  in  the  last  fifteen  years  of  his  administration, 
he  seems  to  have  held  the  place  of  general  without 
interruption.* 

While  we  render  to  Pericles  the  tribute  of  just 
admiration,  we  ought  not  forget  that  he  was  favoured 
by  the  circumstances  of  his  times.  A  man  like  him  is 
capable  of  effecting  much  when  the  state,  of  which  he 
is  the  head,  is  flourishing,  and  the  people  itself  is 
constantly  unfolding  talents  and  powers,  of  which  he 
must  be  able  to  take  advantage.  Pericles  himself 
never  could  have  played  his  part  a  second  time ; 
how  much  less  those  who  were  his  successors.  Of 
these  history  has  but  one  to  mention,  of  whom  we  must 
take  notice,  because  he  belonged,  in  a  certain  sense, 
not  merely  to  Athens,  but  to  Greece  ;  we  mean  Alcib- 
iades.  The  age  in  which  he  appeared,  was  altogether 
warlike  ;  and  of  this  he  merits  the  blame.  He  need- 

*  Namely,  after  his  victory  over  his  antagonist,  the  elder  Thucydides,  who 
N-as  supported  by  the  party  of  the  Optimates.    Plutarch.  Op.  ii.  p.  626,  627. 


270  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

ed,  therefore,  the  qualifications  of  a  general  more  than 
those  of  a  statesman.  Still  it  may  be  said  with  con- 
fidence, that  even  in  better  times  he  would  not  have 
become  a  Pericles,  although  he  seemed  destined  by 
"birth,  talents,  and  fortune  to  play  a  similar  part.  Per- 
icles regarded,  in  every  thing,  first  the  state  and  then 
himself;  Alcibiades,  on  the  contrary,  first  himself  and 
then  the  state.  Is  more  needed  to  delineate  his  char- 
acter as  a  statesman  ?  Vanity  was  his  leading  trait. 
He  is  thus  described  by  the  same  great  historian,  who 
has  drawn  for  us  the  picture  of  Pericles.  "  Although 
Alcibiades,"  says  he,*  "  was  distinguished  among 
his  fellow-citizens  for  his  wealth  and  consequence,  his 
desires  were  always  greater  than  his  fortune  ;  partic- 
ularly of  keeping  splendid  equipages,  and  supporting 
other  extravagances  ;  which  contributed  not  a  little  to 
the  downfall  of  the  Athenians."  His  history  is  so  well 
known,  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  establish  these  re- 
marks by  any  particular  references ;  his  whole  life 
from  beginning  to  end  is  a  confirmation  of  them. 

The  men  who  have  thus  far  been  named,  united, 
though  in  different  degrees,  the  characters  of  the 
statesman  and  the  general.  By  what  means  was  such 
an  entire  separation  of  the  two  produced,  as  may  be 
observed  in  the  third  period,  which  we  have  named 
from  Demosthenes  ?  The  name  alone  explains  to  us 
distinctly  enough,  that  the  reason  is  to  be  looked  for 
in  the  dominion  of  eloquence ;  but  the  question  re- 
mains still  to  be  answered,  Why  and  from  what  causes 
did  eloquence  obtain  so  late  its  ascendancy  in  politics  ? 
We  do  not  read  that  Tnemistocles  and  Aristides 
were  skilled  in  oratory  as  an  art.  It  is  certain,  that 

*  Thucyd.  vi.  15. 


STATESMEN  AND    ORATORS.  271 

of  all  practical  statesmen,  Pericles  was  the  first  who 
deserved  that  praise ;  although  it  is  uncertain  wheth- 
er he  took  advantage  of  the  instructions  which  then 
began  to  be  given  by  the  teachers  of  eloquence.*  But 
though  the  orations  of  Pericles  were  artfully  compos- 
ed, they  cannot  be  called  works  of  art  in  the  same 
sense  with  those  of  Demosthenes  and  his  contempora- 
ries. As  Pericles  left  no  writings,  it  must  remain  un- 
decided, whether  he  wrote  out  his  speeches  word  for 
word.  A  circumstance,  of  which  the  memory  is  pre- 
served by  Plutarch,  appears  to  make  this  very  uncer- 
tain. "  He  was  accustomed,7'  says  the  biographer,! 
i(  whenever  he  was  to  speak  in  public,  previously  to 
entreat  the  gods,  that  he  might  not  utter,  against 
his  will,  any  word  which  should  not  belong  to  the 
subject."  Does  not  this  seem  to  show,  that  he  was  not 
accustomed  to  write  his  orations,  and  deliver  them  from 
memory,  but  that  he  rather  left  much  to  be  filled  up  by 
the  impulse  of  the  moment.  The  speech  which  Thucyd- 
ides  represents  him  to  have  delivered,  J  is  the  work  of 
the  historian  ;  but  we  can  judge  from  that  and  other 
similar  discourses  contained  in  the  same  author,  of 
the  character  of  public  eloquence  before  and  during 
the  Peloponnesian  war ;  since  they  could  not  but 
be  composed  in  the  taste  and  after  the  manner  of 
the  times.  But  how  do  they  differ  in  style  from  those 
of  the  age  of  Demosthenes  !  How  much  less  can 
those  orations,  great  as  are  their  various  merits,  be 

*  According  to  Plutarch,  i.  p.  594,  the  sophist  Damon  was  his  instruct- 
er ;  but,  as  it  appears,  rather  his  political  counsellor,  than  his  regular  instruc- 
ter  in  eloquence.  He  made  use  of  the  pretext,  says  Plutarch,  of  teaching 
him  music.  Gorgias  of  Leontium,  who  is  commonly  mentioned  as  begin- 
ning the  class  of  sophists,  can  hardly  have  been  his  master.  See  the  frag- 
ment from  the  Schol.  ad,  Hermog.  ap.  Reisk.  Or.  Gr.  viii.  p.  195. 

t  Pint.  Op.  ii.  p.  604.  J  Thucyd.  ii.  60. 


272  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

considered  as  classic  models  in  the  art  of  eloquence  ! 
We  find  in  them  little  or  nothing  of  an  artificial  plan  ; 
little  of  that  rhetorical  amplification,  and  those  figures 
and  artifices,  by  which  the  later  orators  produced 
an  effect  on  their  hearers.  We  justly  admire  in  them 
the  strength  of  many  of  their  thoughts,  and  single 
expressions  and  passages.  Rut  they  seem  to  proye  be- 
yond a  question,  that  the  rhetorical  style  was  not  then 
formed  at  Athens.  They  have  far  more  the  character 
of  martial  addresses ;  they  bear  the  impress  of  an 
age,  in  which  the  orator  in  the  popular  assemblies 
was  at  the  same  time  the  commander  in  war.* 

And  by  what  means  did  Grecian  eloquence  in 
public  speaking  gain  that  peculiar  character,  which 
it  possessed  in  the  age  of  Demosthenes  ?  The  origin 
and  progress  of  public  speaking  always  depends  in  a 
certain  degree  on  external  circumstances.  It  is  not 
enough  that  the  constitution  leaves  room  for  it ;  for 
then  it  would  have  come  to  perfection  in  other  Gre- 
cian cities,  and  in  Athens  at  a  much  earlier  period  than 
it  did.  Neither  can  we  assume  the  artificial  dispo- 
sition of  the  parts  of  a  discourse  and  the  instruction 
given  in  rhetoric,  as  the  standard  by  which  to  judge 
of  the  actual  appearance  of  great  political  orators. 
External  circumstances  must  also  be  such  as  to  make 
the  want  of  orators  perceptible.  And  when  can  this 
take  place  in  free  republics,  except  in  times — not 
of  war,  for  there  arms  must  decide ;  but  rather  in 
times  of  impending  dangers,  which  may  yet  be  avert- 
ed by  prudence  and  courageous  resolutions  ?  In  such 

*In  the  masterly  sketch  which  is  given  by  Cicero,  in  Bruto,  cap.  7 — 13, 
of  the  succession  of  Greek  orators,  much  instruction  on  these  subjects  may 
be  found. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  273 

times  the  public  speaker  is  in  his  place  ;  he  beholds 
the  field  of  glory  opened  before  him  ;  and  if  no  other 
motive  than  patriotism  should  lead  him  to  ascend 
the  stage  from  which  the  people  was  addressed, 
where  could  his  bosom  be  warmed  by  a  nobler  inspi- 
ration ? 

This  was  the  case  in  Greece,  and  especially  in  Athens, 
during  the  age  of  Philip  ;  for  it  was  Philip  who  called 
forth  a  Demosthenes.  Every  thing  which  was  needed  to 
produce  such  an  orator,  had  already  been  prepared. 
The  form  of  government  had  long  since  made  public 
speaking  customary,  and  had  opened  a  place  for  its 
influence.  Eloquence  was  no  longer  regarded  as 
merely  a  gift  of  nature,  but  as  the  fruit  of  study ;  and 
the  orator  spoke  to  a  people,  which  was  sufficiently 
well  informed,  to  understand  and  estimate  his  merits. 
To  this  were  added  those  external  causes,  the  difficult 
relations  of  the  times.  Where  could  there  have  been 
a  better  field  for  great  public  speakers?  Where 
would  their  appearance  have  been  more  easily  ac- 
counted for  ?  WThere  was  it  more  natural,  that  the 
practical  statesman  should  more  and  more  apply  him- 
self to  the  study  of  eloquence,  and  thus  the  third 
period  distinguished  by  us  be  introduced,  in  which 
the  mere  orator,  without  the  talents  of  a  military  com- 
mander, could  direct  the  affairs  of  the  state. 

But  when  we  investigate  the  history  of  practical 
eloquence  in  Greece  (for  we  speak  of  that,  and  not  of 
the  theory),  we  are  soon  led  to  remark,  what  deserves 
to  be  carefully  considered ;  that  in  this  last  period  of 
time,  political  eloquence  and  that  of  the  bar  became 
much  more  closely  connected  than  before.  The  men 
who  in  the  earlier  times  had  stood  at  the  head  of  the 
35 


274  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

state,  Pericles,  Alcibiades,  and  the  rest,  did  not  make 
their  way  to  eminence  through  the  business  of  advo- 
cates. Though  in  individual  cases,  as  Pericles  in  that 
of  Cimon,*  they  appeared  as  ace  users  in  public  trials, 
they  never  made  a  profession  of  pleading  in  the  courts 
of  justice,  as  did  the  orators  of  the  age  of  Demosthe- 
nes. This  gives  rise  to  an  important  question  in  the 
history  of  practical  politics  no  less  than  of  oratory  : 
When  did  the  advocates  in  Greece  become  states- 
men ;  and  by  what  means  did  they  become  so? 

If  I  do  not  err,  it  is  not  difficult  to  prove,  that 
during,  and  by  means  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  the 
labours  of  the  advocate  and  the  statesman  first  came 
to  be  united.  The  state  trials,  as  is  apparent  from 
our  remarks  in  a  preceding  chapter  respecting  the 
judicial  institutions,  produced  this  result.  But  these 
began  to  be  numerous  during  and  immediately  after 
that  war ;  and  they  could  not  have  become  very 
frequent,  though  individual  ones  occurred,  before  the 
spirit  of  faction,  which  supported  them,  had  taken 
root  too  deeply  to  be  extirpated.  Of  the  orators 
with  whom  we  are  acquainted,  Antiphon  is  the  earli- 
est who  must  here  be  mentioned.  The  sketch  drawn 
of  him  by  Thucydides,  represents  a  man,  who,  prop- 
erly an  advocate,  was  drawn  into  public  affairs  against 
his  inclination ;  and  at  last  was  obliged  to  defend 
his  life  for  it.f  Of  his  contemporaries,  Andocides  and 
Lysias,  the  first  would  probably  have  long  played  a 
conspicuous  part  in  politics  but  for  his  restless  spirit 
and  his  want  of  morals.^  His  rival  Lysias,  to  judge 

*  Plutarch.  Op.  i.  p.  610.    And  even  then,  as  the  writer  remarks,  he  was 
rather  apparently  than  really  an  accuser, 
i  Thucyd.  viii.  68. 
;  Hauptnaann  de  Andocide.  ap.  Reisk.  vol.  viii.  p.  535. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.          375 

from  those  of  his  orations  which  are  still  extant,  was 
entirely  an  advocate  ;  but  these  were  chiefly  deliver- 
ed on  such  matters,  as  were  considered  at  Athens  to 
belong  to  public  questions  at  law ;  and  the  eloquence 
of  the  bar  naturally  rose  to  a  higher  degree  of  consid- 
eration, as  trials  not  only  were  multiplied,  but  also 
increased  in  importance.  In  this  manner,  by  the 
multitude  of  public  processes,  the  path  was  opened  to 
the  advocates  to  a  share  in  the  business  of  the  state  ; 
and  the  ideas  of  orator  and  statesman  became  insepara- 
ble. This  is  nowhere  more  distinctly  perceived,  than  in 
the  writings  of  Isocrates,  which  are  so  often  instruc- 
tive on  these  subjects.  He,  who  was  only  a  teacher  of 
eloquence  (for  he  was  conscious  of  being  too  timid  to 
speak  in  public),  esteemed  himself  no  less  a  teacher 
of  political  science  ;  and  as  he  never  delivered  dis- 
courses concerning  public  affairs,  he  wrote  respecting 
them.*  Several  of  his  essays  are  of  the  class  which 
we  call  memorials,  directed  by  him  to  rulers  and 
kings ;  although  his  friends  had  warned  him,  how- 
dangerous  this  kind  of  writing  might  prove  for  him.f 
They  produced  no  greater  effect  than  such  writings 
commonly  do,  where  they  are  not  supported  by  per- 
sonal connexions ;  but  no  one  will  deny,  that  his 
instructions  contributed  much  towards  the  education 
of  many  orators  and  statesmen.! 

Nothing  would  be  more  superfluous,  than  the 
desire  of  becoming  the  eulogist  of  that  master  in  his 
art,  whom  the  united  voice  of  so  many  centuries  has 
declared  to  be  the  first ;  and  whose  worth  the  only 

*  See  in  particular  the  introduction  to  the  Panathenaicus.  Op.  p.  234,  etc. 
t  Orat.  ad  Philip.  Op.  p.  85. 

t  Cic.  Brut.  c.  8.    Isocrates,  cujus  dooms  cunctae  Graeci«e  quasi  ludus  qni- 
dam  patuit,  atque  officina  dicendi ;  magnus  orator  et  pr  rfr-ctii*  magisier 


276  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

rival  whom  antiquity  placed  by  his  side,  has  describ- 
ed in  a  manner  at  once  exact,  and  equally  honourable 
to  both.*  We  would  not  here  speak  of  Demosthenes 
the  orator,  but  of  Demosthenes  the  statesman  ;  and  of 
him  only  as  far  as  the  man,  the  orator,  and  the  states- 
man were  most  intimately  connected  in  him.  His 
political  principles  came  from  the  depths  of  his  soul ; 
he  remained  true  to  his  feelings  and  his  convictions, 
amidst  all  changes  of  circumstances  and  all  threatening 
dangers.  Hence  he  was  the  most  powerful  of  orators ; 
because  with  him  there  was  no  surrender  of  his  con- 
victions, no  partial  compromise,  in  a  word,  no  trace  of 
weakness.  This  is  the  real  essence  of  his  art ;  every 
thing  else  was  but  secondary.  And  in  this  how  much 
does  he  rise  above  Cicero !  And  yet  who  ever  suf- 
fered more  severely  than  he  for  his  greatness  ?  Of  all 
political  characters,  Demosthenes  is  the  most  sublime 
and  purestf  tragic  character,  with  which  history  is 
acquainted.  When,  still  trembling  with  the  vehement 
force  of  his  language,  we  read  his  life  in  Plutarch  ; 
when  we  transfer  ourselves  into  his  times  and  his 
situation  ;  we  are  carried  away  by  a  deeper  interest, 
than  can  be  excited  by  any  hero  of  the  epic  muse 
or  of  tragedy.  From  his  first  appearance  till  the 
moment  when  he  swallows  poison  in  the  temple,  we 
see  him  contending  against  destiny,  which  seems  to 
mock  him  with  malignant  cruelty.  It  throws  him  to 
the  ground,  but  never  subdues  him.  What  a  current 

*  Cicero  in  Bruto,  c.  9. 

t  He  was  naturally  calumniated  beyond  any  other.  And  yet  lliey  could  bring 
no  charge  against  him  but  iiis  silence  in  the  affair  of  Ilarpalus  (see below),  and 
that  he  was  in  Persian  pay  ;  which  was  the  common  charge  against  all  who 
did  not  side  with  Philip.  Could  they  have  proved  it,  is  it  probable  that  they 
would  have  kept  back  their  proofs  ? 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.  277 

of  emotions  must  have  poured  through  his  manly 
breast  amidst  this  interchange  of  reviving  and  expir- 
ing hopes.  How  natural  was  it,  that  the  lines  of 
melancholy*  and  of  indignation  such  as  we  yet  behold 
in  his  bust,t  should  have  been  imprinted  on  his  severe 
countenance !  Hardly  had  he  passed  the  years  of 
youth,  when  he  appeared  in  his  own  behalf  as  accuser 
of  his  faithless  guardians ;  J  from  whom,  however,  he  was 
able  to  rescue  only  a  small  part  of  his  patrimony.^ 
In  his  next  attempts,  insulted  by  the  multitude,  though 
encouraged  by  a  few  who  anticipated  his  future 
greatness,  he  supported  an  obstinate  contest  with  him- 
self, till  he  gained  the  victory  over  his  own  nature.  || 
He  now  appeared  once  more  as  an  accuser  in  public 
prosecutions,!!  before  he  ventured  to  speak  on  the 
affairs  of  the  state.  But  in  the  very  first  of  his  pub- 
lic speeches**  we  see  the  independent  statesman,  who 
not  dazzled  by  a  splendid  project,  opposes  a  vast 
undertaking.  When  Philip  soon  after  displayed  his  de- 
signs against  Greece  by  his  interference  in  the  Phocian 

*His  adversary,  when  he  insultingly  said  that  Demosthenes  "  could  weep 
more  easily  than  other  men  could  laugh,"  ^Escliin.  in  Ctesiph.  Op.  iii.  p.  597. 
Reisk.  uttered  a  deeper  truth  than  he  himself  was  aware  of. 

t  Visconti,  Iconographie,  PI.  xxx. 

t  In  the  orations  against  Aphobus,     Op.  ii.  Reisk. 

§  Plutarch,  iv.  p.  700. 

||  Many  stories  came  subsequently  to  be  told  about  it ;  but  the  story  of 
the  pebble-stones  which  he  put  in  his  mouth,  rests  on  the  testimony  of  De- 
metrius Phalereus,  who  had  heard  it  from  the  orator  himself.  Plut.  iv.  p. 
709.  The  same  is  true  of  various  other  particulars. 

U  Against  Androtion,  Timocrates,  and  others.  He  was  then  27  years  old. 
Phil.  p.  717. 

•^  In  the  oration  of  the  ffuft,/t/>g!ai,  or  classes,  pronounced  in  the  year  354  B.  C. 
He  opposed  an  offensive  war  against  the  Persians,  for  which  the  Athenians 
v/ere  ready,  in  the  hope  of  effecting  a  general  union  of  the  Greeks.  Here  we  al- 
ready find  the  maxim,  which  formed  the  theme  of  his  subsequent  orations, 
as  of  the  speeches  of  Chatham  ;  To  stand  on  one's  own  feet. 


278  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

war,  he  for  the  first  time  appeared  against  that  mon- 
arch in  his  first  Philippic  oration.*  From  this  period 
he  had  found  the  great  business  of  his  life.  Some- 
times as  counsellor,  sometimes  as  accuser,  sometimes 
as  ambassador,  he  protected  the  independence  of  his 
country  against  the  Macedonian  policy.  Splendid 
success  seemed  at  first  to  reward  his  exertions.  He 
had  already  won  a  number  of  states  for  Athens  ;f 
when  Philip  invaded  Greece,  he  had  already  succeed- 
ed not  only  in  gaining  over  the  Thebans,  but  in 
kindling  their  enthusiasm  ;f  when  the  day  of  Chaero- 
nea  dashed  his  hopes  to  the  earth. ^  But  he  cour- 
ageously declares  in  the  assembly  of  the  people,  that 
he  still  does  not  repent  of  the  counsels  which  he  had 
given. T[  An  unexpected  incident  changes  the  whole 
aspect  of  things.  Philip  falls  the  victim  of  assassina- 
tion ;||  and  a  youth,  who  as  yet  is  but  little  known, 
is  his  successor.  Immediately  Demosthenes  institutes 
a  second  alliance  of  the  Greeks  ;  but  Alexander  sud- 
denly appears  before  Thebes ;  the  terrible  vengeance 
which  he  here  takes,  instantly  destroys  the  league ; 
Demosthenes,  Lycurgus,  and  several  of  their  support- 
ers, are  required  to  be  delivered  up ;  but  Demades 
is  at  that  time  able  to  settle  the  difficulty  and 
to  appease  the  king.**  His  strength  was  therefore 
enfeebled,  as  Alexander  departed  for  Asia;  he 
begins  to  raise  his  head  once  more,  when  Sparta 

*  Pronounced  in  the  year  352. 

t  Achaia,  Corinth,  Megara,  and  others.     Plut.  iv.  p.  720. 

J  Plut.  iv.  p.  722.     A.  leading  passage  respecting  his  political  activity. 

§  In  the  year  338  B.C. 

fi  Plut.  iv.  p.  726.  His  enemies  even  then  endeavoured  to  attack  him, 
but  in  vain.  The  people  assigned  to  him  the  funeral  oration  on  those  who 
tell  at  Chcfronea  ;  and  by  this  did  honour  to  him  and  to  themselves. 

il  In  the  year  336  B.  C.  *»  Plutarch,  iv.  p.  731. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.         279 

attempts  to  throw  off  the  yoke  ;*  but  under  Antipater 
he  is  overpowered.  Yet  it  was  about  this  very  time 
that  by  the  most  celebrated  of  his  discourses  he  gam- 
ed the  victory  over  the  most  eloquent  of  his  adversa- 
ries ;  and  ^schines  was  forced  to  depart  from  Athens,  f 
But  this  seems  only  to  have  the  more  embittered  his 
enemies,  the  leaders  of  the  Macedonian  party  ;  and 
they  soon  found  an  opportunity  of  preparing  his 
downfall.  When  Harpalus,  a  fugitive  from  the  army 
of  Alexander,  came  with  his  treasures  to  Athens,  and 
the  question  arose,  whether  he  could  be  permitted  to 
remain  there,  Demosthenes  was  accused  of  having 
been  corrupted  by  his  money,  at  least  to  be  silent.  J 
This  was  sufficient  to  procure  the  imposition  of  a  fine  ;§ 
and  as  this  was  not  paid,  he  was  thrown  into  prison. 
From  thence  he  succeeded  in  escaping ;  but  to  the 
man  who  lived  only  for  his  country,  exile  was  no  less 
an  evil  than  imprisonment.  He  resided  for  the  most 
part  in  jEgina  and  at  Troezen,  from  whence  he  looked 
with  moist  eyes  towards  the  neighbouring  Attica. || 
Suddenly  and  unexpectedly  a  new  ray  of  light  broke 
through  the  clouds.  Tidings  were  brought,  that 
Alexander  was  dead.H  The  moment  of  deliverance 
seemed  at  hand;  the  excitement  pervaded  every 
Grecian  state ;  the  ambassadors  of  the  Athenians 
passed  through  the  cities ;  Demosthenes  joined  him- 
self to  the  number,  and  exerted  all  his  eloquence  and 
power  to  unite  them  against  Macedonia.**  In  re- 

*  In  the  year  330  B.  C. 

tThe  oration  for  the  Crown.    The  trial  took  place  in  the  year  330  B.  C. 

}  Plutarch,  iv.  p.  733.  I  leave  it  to  the  reader  to  form  an  opinion  respect- 
ing the  anecdotes  which  are  there  related.  His  accuser  was  Dinarchu.s, 
whose  calumnious  oration  we  still  possess.  Or.  Gr.  vol.  iv.  Reisk. 

§  Of  50  talents  ;  (not  far  from  45000  dollars)  ;  Plut.  iv.  p.  735. 

H  Plut.  iv.  736.  H  In  the  year  323.  **  Plut.  iv.  p.  737. 


280  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

quital  for  such  services,  the  people  decreed  his  return; 
and  years  of  sufferings  were  at  last  followed  by  a  day 
of  exalted  compensation.  A  galley  was  sent  to  JCgina 
to  bring  back  the  advocate  of  liberty.  All  Athens 
was  in  motion;  no  magistrate,  no  priest  remain- 
ed in  the  city,  when  it  was  reported  that  Demosthe- 
nes was  advancing  from  the  Piraeeus.*  Overpowered 
by  his  feelings,  he  extended  his  arms  and  declared 
himself  happier  than  Alcibiades  ;f  for  his  countrymen 
had  recalled  him,  not  by  compulsion,  but  from  choice. 
It  was  a  momentary  glimpse  of  the  sun,  which  still 
darker  clouds  were  soon  to  conceal.  Antipater  and 
Craterus  were  victorious  ;  and  with  them  the  Mace- 
donian party  in  Athens  ;  Demosthenes  and  his  friends 
were  numbered  among  the  accused,  and  at  the  insti- 
gation of  Demades  were  condemned  to  die.  They  had 
already  withdrawn  in  secret  from  the  city ;  but  where 
could  they  find  a  place  of  refuge  ?  Hyperides  with 
two  others  took  refuge  in  /Egina  in  the  temple  of 
Ajax.  In  vain  !  they  were  torn  away,  dragged  before 
Antipater,  and  executed.  Demosthenes  had  escaped 
to  the  island  Calauria  in  the  vicinity  of  Trcezen ;  and 
took  refuge  in  the  temple  of  Neptune.J  It  was  to  no 
purpose,  that  Archias,  the  satellite  of  Antipater,  urged 
him  to  surrender  himself  under  promise  of  pardon. 
He  pretended  he  wished  to  write  something ;  bit  the 
quill,  and  swallowed  the  poison  contained  in  it.  He 
then  veiled  himself,  reclining  his  head  backwards,  till 
he  felt  the  operation  of  the  poison.  "  O  Neptune  !" 
he  exclaimed,  "  they  have  defiled  thy  temple ;  but 
honouring  thee,  I  will  leave  it  while  yet  living."  But 

*  Pint.  iv.  p.  738.  t  Who  saw  a  similar  day  of  return. 

tSee.fortbe  following,  Plut.  iv.  p.  741. 


STATESMEN  AND  ORATORS.         281 

he  sank  before  the  altar,*  and  a  sudden  death  sep- 
arated him  from  a  world,  which,  after  the  fall  of  his 
country,  contained  no  happiness  for  him.  Where  shall 
we  find  a  character  of  more  grandeur  and  purity  than 
that  of  Demosthenes  ? 

It  seemed  by  no  means  superfluous  to  exhibit  a 
picture  of  Grecian  statesmen  during  that  period,  by 
sketching  the  history  of  him,  who  holds  the  first  rank 
among  them.  We  learn  from  it,  that  the  sphere  of  action 
of  such  men,  though  they  are  called  orators,  extended 
far  beyond  their  orations.  From  these,  it  is  true,  we 
chiefly  derive  our  knowledge  of  them.  But  how  dif- 
ferently would  Demosthenes  appear  to  us,  if  we  were 
particularly  acquainted  with  the  details  of  his  political 
career.f  How  much  must  have  been  needed  to  effect 
such  an  alliance,  as  he  was  repeatedly  able  to  form  ? 
What  journeys,  what  connexions,  what  skill  in  winning 
persons  of  influence,  and  in  managing  mankind  ? 

And  what  were  the  means  which  these  statesmen 
of  antiquity  could  command,  when  we  compare  them 
with  those  of  modern  times  ?  They  had  no  orders 
from  the  cabinet  to  execute.  They  had  not  the  dis- 
posal of  the  wealth  of  nations  ;  they  could  not  obtain 
by  force,  what  others  would  not  voluntarily  yield. 
Even  the  comparison  which  might  be  made  between 
them  and  the  British  statesmen,  is  true  only  as  far 
as  the  latter  also  stood  in  need  of  eloquence  to  con- 
firm their  influence.  But  the  other  means  which 

*  What  a  subject  for  the  art  of  sculpture  !  and  yet  one,  which  has  never, 
to  my  knowledge,  been  made  use  of.  The  artist  would  only  need  to  draw 
after  Plutarch. 

t  If  the  voice  of  history  on  this  subject  were  not  loud  enough,  this  might 
be  inferred  from  the  calumnies  of  Dinarchus.  It  is  not  inconsistent  with  it, 
that  Demosthenes  may  sometimes,  in  his  negotiations,  have  been  too  much 
carried  away  by  the  liveliness  of  his  feelings. 

36 


282  CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

Pitt  could  employ  to  form  a  party,  were  not  possessed 
by  Demosthenes.  He  had  no  presents  to  offer,  no 
places  to  give  away,  no  ribbons  and  decorations  to 
promise.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  opposed  by  men, 
who  could  control  every  thing  by  which  covetousness 
or  ambition  can  be  tempted.  What  could  he  oppose 
to  them,  but  his  talents,  his  activity,  and  his  courage  ? 
Provided  with  no  other  arms,  he  supported  the  con- 
test against  the  superiority  of  foreign  strength,  and 
the  still  more  dangerous  contest  with  the  corruptions 
of  his  own  nation.  It  was  his  high  calling,  to  be  the 
pillar  o'f  a  sinking  state.  Thirty  years  he  remained 
true  to  it,  and  he  did  not  yield  till  he  was  buried 
beneath  it  ruins. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.  283 


CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 


THE  SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE. 

THE  relation  which  exists  between  science  and 
political  institutions,  is  of  a  twofold  nature.  It  may 
he  asked,  What  has  the  state  done  for  the  promotion 
of  the  sciences  ?  And  also,  What  influence  in  return 
have  the  sciences,  or  any  particular  branches  of  them, 
exerted  on  the  state  ?  Both  questions  deserve  to  be 
considered  in  the  case  of  the  Greeks. 

Where  the  government  is  actively  engaged  in 
promoting  the  sciences,  their  previous  existence  may 
be  inferred.  To  create  them  neither  is,  nor  can  be 
a  concern  of  the  state.  Even  where  they  are  begin- 
ning to  flourish,  it  cannot  at  once  be  expected,  that 
they  should  receive  public  support ;  because  they  do 
not  stand  in  immediate  relation  with  the  general  gov- 
ernment. '  They  are  the  fruit  of  the  investigations  of 
individual  eminent  men  ;  who  have  a  right  to  expect 
nothing,  but  that  no  hindrances  should  be  laid  in  the 
way  of  their  inquiries  and  labours.  Such  was  the 
situation  of  tilings  in  the  Grecian  states,  at  the  time 
when  scientific  pursuits  began  to  gain  life.  What 
inducement  could  the  state  have  had  to  interfere  at 
once  for  their  encouragement.  In  Greece  the  motive 
which  was  of  influence  in  the  East,  did  not  exist. 
Religion  had  no  secret  doctrines.  She  required  no 
institutions  for  their  dissemination.  There  certainly 
were  public  schools  for  instruction  in  reading,  writing, 


284  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

and  in  music  (poetry  and  song) ;  over  which  teachers 
were  appointed  in  all  the  principal  cities ;  and  the 
laws  provided  that  no  abuses  dangerous  to  youth 
should  find  entrance  to  them.*  But  in  most  of  them 
the  masters  were  probably  not  paid  by  the  state  ;f 
they  received  a  compensation  from  their  pupils.  The 
same  is  true  of  the  more  advanced  instruction  deliver- 
ed by  the  sophists ;  some  of  whom  amassed  wealth 
from  their  occupation ;  yet  not  at  the  expense  of  the 
state,  but  of  their  pupils. 

Thus  it  appears,  that  excepting  the  gymnasia, 
which  were  destined  for  bodily  exercises,  and  of  which 
the  support  was  one  of  the  duties  incumbent  on  citi- 
zens,:}: no  higher  institutions  for  instruction  existed 
previous  to  the  Macedonian  age.  But  when  the  mass 
of  scientific  knowledge  had  accumulated  ;  when  it 
was  felt  how  valuable  that  knowledge  was  to  the  state  ; 
when  the  monarchical  constitutions  were  introduced 
after  the  age  of  Alexander ;  provision  was  made  for 
such  institutions  ;  the  museum  of  Alexandria  and  that 
of  Pergamus  were  established  ;  and  it  still  remains 
for  a  more  thorough  investigation  to  decide,  whether 
the  state  remained  wholly  inactive,  while  the  schools  of 
philosophy  and  of  rhetoric  were  forming.  Shall  the  Gre- 
cian republics,  then,  still  continue  to  be  cited ;  as  has 
"been  done  by  the  celebrated  founder  of  a  new  school  of 

*  See  the  laws  of  Solon  on  this  point.  Petit.  Leg.  Att.  L.  ii.  Tit.  iv.  p.  239. 

1 1  limit  the  proposition  on  purpose,  for  it  would  be  altogether  false  to 
assert  generally,  that  this  never  took  place.  Charonidas  in  his  laws  at  Cata- 
na,  which  were  afterwards  adopted  in  Thurium,  had  expressly  enacted,  that 
the  schoolmasters  should  be  paid  by  the  state  ;  Diod.  xii.  p.  80.  as  an  affair 
of  the  utmost  importance.  Since  the  schools  were  so  carefully  watched 
over,  may  not  the  same  have  taken  place  in  many  other  cities  ?  This  how- 
ever is  true  only  of  the  inferior  or  popular  schools. 
;  see  Petit,  iii.  Tit.  iv.  p.  355. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.       285 

political  economy,  in  proof  that  the  state  should  leave 
the  sciences  to  provide  for  themselves  ?  Should  it  not 
rather  encourage  and  provide  for  them  in  countries, 
\vhere  the  cukure  of  most  of  them  is  in  several  relations 
necessary  for  its  welfare  ?  where  the  teacher  of  re- 
ligion as  well  as  the  judge,  where  the  physician  as  well 
as  the  statesman,  stands  in  need  of  various  kinds  of 
knowledge  ? 

But  when  that  assertion  is  understood  as  implying 
that  the  state  among  the  Greeks  was  wholly  uncon- 
cerned about  intellectual  culture  and  improvement, 
but  left  these  subjects  to  themselves,  a  monstrous 
error  lies  at  the  bottom  of  it.  No  states  in  the  whole 
course  of  history  have  proportionally  done  more  for 
them  than  the  Grecian  ;  but  they  did  it  in  a  different 
manner  from  the  moderns.  We  measure  intellectual 
culture  by  the  state  of  science  ;  for  which  our  modern 
states,  as  is  well  known,  have  at  times  done  so  much 
and  so  little ;  the  Greeks,  on  the  contrary,  were 
accustomed  to  find  their  standard  in  the  arts.  The 
state  among  the  Greeks  did  little  for  the  sciences, 
because  it  did  every  thing  for  the  arts.  The  latter 
as  we  shall  more  fully  explain  hereafter,  were  of  more 
immediate  importance  to  it  than  the  former ;  while 
the  reverse  is  true  among  the  moderns.  How  then  can 
we  be  astonished  that  the  arts  were  the  chief  object  of 
interest  to  the  Grecian  states  ? 

The  answer  to  the  other  question  embraces  a 
wider  field  :  Among  the  Greeks,  what  consequences 
had  the  sciences  for  the  state?  And  here  we  would 
in  the  first  place  treat  of  philosophy,  and  then  annex 
to  the  inquiry  on  that  subject,  some  remarks  respect- 
ing history. 


386  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

After  so  many  acute  and  copious  explanations  of 
the  Grecian  philosophy,  no  one  will  here  expect  a 
new  analysis  of  their  systems.  It  is  our  object  to 
show  how  the  connexion  between  philosophy  and 
politics  originated  among  the  Greeks,  how  it  was 
continued  and  increased,  and  what  was  its  influence  ? 

The  philosophy  of  the  Greeks,  as  of  other  nations, 
began  with  inquiries  into  the  origin  of  things.  The 
opinions  of  the  Ionian  school  respecting  it  are  gener- 
ally known.  If,  as  a  modern  historical  critic  has 
made  to  appear  very  probable,*  they  were  at  first 
connected  with  religious  representations,  as  we  find 
them  in  the  Orphic  precepts,  they  did  not  long  remain 
thus  united,  for  they  were  stript  of  their  mythological 
garb ;  and  in  this  manner  the  philosophy  of  the 
Greeks  gained  its  independence,  while  in  the  East  it 
always  remained  connected  with  religion.  But  it  is 
nowhere  mentioned,  that  the  philosophers  who  be- 
longed to  this  school,  had  made  the  state  the  object 
of  their  inquiries  ;  yet  if  we  consider  Anaxagoras  as 
of  the  number,  his  connexion  with  Pericles,  and  the 
influence  which  by  means  of  his  instructions  he  exer- 
cised over  that  statesman,  are  remarkable.  But,  as 
we  observed  in  a  former  chapter,  no  instruction  in  a 
philosophic  system  was  given  ;  but  in  the  application 
of  some  propositions  in  natural  philosophy  to  practical 
politics.  Plutarch  has  preserved  for  us  the  true 
object.  "  He  freed  Pericles,"  says  the  biographer,  f 
"from  that  supersition,  which  proceeds  from  false 
judgments  respecting  auguries  and  prodigies,  by 
explaining  to  him  their  natural  causes."  He  who  bears 

*  Bouterweck.  Commentatio  de  primis  philosopliorum  Graccorum  decretis 
physicis.  See  Gott.  Gel.  Anzeig.  1812.  St.  11. 
t  Plut.  i.  p.  597. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.       287 

in  mind  the  great  influence  exercised  by  this  belief  or 
superstition  on  the  undertakings  of  the  statesmen  of 
antiquity,  will  not  mistake  the  importance  of  such 
instruction ;  and  he  will  also  understand  the  conse- 
quences, which  could  follow  this  diminution  of  respect 
for  the  popular  religion  in  the  eyes  of  the  multitude. 
The  persecution  of  Anaxagoras  for  denying  the  gods, 
and  exercising  his  reason  respecting  celestial  things,* 
could  not  be  averted  by  Pericles  himself;  who  was 
obliged  to  consent  to  the  banishment  of  the  philoso- 
pher. And  this  was  the  commencement  of  the  con- 
test between  philosophy  and  the  popular  religion  ;  a 
contest,  which  was  afterwards  repeatedly  renewed, 
and  was  attended  by  further  consequences,  that  we 
must  not  omit  to  observe. 

Pythagoras,  though  somewhat  younger  than  the 
founder  of  the  Ionian  school,  was  himself  an  Ionian 
of  the  island  of  Samos.  Nevertheless  he  found  his 
sphere  of  action  not  there,  but  in  Croton  in  Lower 
Italy.  Of  no  one  of  the  Grecian  sages  is  the  history 
so  involved  in  the  obscurities  of  tradition  and  the 
marvellous  ;  and  yet  no  other  became  of  such  political 
importance.!  If  we  desire  to  estimate  the  influ- 
ence of  his  philosophy  on  the  state,  we  must  by  all 
means  distinguish  the  influence  of  the  Pythagorean 

*  Plutarch,  i.  p.  654,  665. 

t  We  cannot  exactly  fix  the  year  of  tbe  birth  or  of  the  death  of  Pythago- 
ras. It  is  most  probable  that  he  came  to  Croton  about  the  year  540 ;  he  was 
certainly  there  at  the  period  of  the  destruction  of  Sybaris,  in  the  year  510  B. 
C.  His  society  which  existed  at  that  time,  was  afterwards,  about  the  year 
500  B.  C.,  dissolved  by  Cylon  and  his  faction.  Little  remains  to  be  added  to 
the  critical  inquiries  of  Meiners  respecting  the  Pythagorean  Philosophy.  It 
is  chiefly  these  inquiries  which  confer  a  value  on  Meiners'  History  of  the 
Sciences  in  Greece  and  Rome.  Agreeably  to  the  spirit  of  our  work,  we 
would  only  offer  our  view  of  the  subject  to  the  consideration  of  others. 


288  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

league  on  the  cities  of  Magna  Graecia,  from  the  influ- 
ence of  his  philosophy  on  Greece  itself,  after  that 
league  had  come  to  an  end. 

If  we  subject  to  a  critical  investigation,  that  which 
antiquity  relates  in  a  credible  manner  of  his  society 
and  their  objects,  we  observe  a  phenomenon,  which  is 
in  many  respects  without  a  parallel.  And  yet  I 
believe  this  is  most  intimately  connected  with  the 
aristocratic  and  democratic  factions  which  may  be 
remarked  so  frequently  in  the  Grecian  states.  Pythag- 
oras had  deserted  Samos,  to  escape  from  the  govern- 
ment of  Polycrates  ;  and  whatever  scruples  may  be 
raised  respecting  his  other  journies,  no  one  has  denied 
his  residence  in  Egypt.  At  the  time  when  he 
visited  this  country,  probably  under  Amasis,  who 
made  it  accessible  to  the  Greeks,  the  throne  of  the 
Pharaohs  was  still  standing,  and  the  influence  of  the 
cast  of  priests  unimpaired.  From  them  it  is  certain 
that  he  adopted  much,  both  in  respect  to  dress  and 
manner  of  living ;  and  could  it  have  escaped  a  man  of 
his  penetration,  how  much  can  be  effected  in  a  state 
by  the  union  of  men  of  influence  ;  although  he  must 
have  seen,  that  a  cast  of  priests  could  never  thrive 
among  the  Greeks  ?  According  to  all  which  we  hear 
respecting  him,  he  was  master  of  the  art  of  exciting,  not 
attention  only,  but  enthusiasm.  His  dignity,  his  dress, 
the  purity  of  his  morals,  his  eloquence,  were  of  such  a 
kind,  that  men  were  inclined  to  exalt  him  above  the 
class  of  common  mortals.*  A  comparison  of  the  his- 
tory of  the  several  cities  in  Magna  Graecia,  at  the 
time  of  his  appearing  in  them,  distinctly  shows,  that 

*  See  the  passages  in  proof  of  this  in  Meiners,  B.  i.  S.  405,  &ic.    They  are 
chiefly  taken  from  Aristoxenus,  one  of  the  most  credible  witnesses. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.      289 

the  government,  in  the  most  flourishing  of  them,  was 
possessed  by  the  higher  class.  Against  this  order,  a 
popular  party  began  about  this  time  to  be  formed  ;  and 
the  controversies  of  the  two  soon  occasioned  the  des- 
truction of  Sybaris.*  Pythagoras,  who  was  any  thing 
rather  a  friend  to  the  mob,  joined  the  party  of  the 
higher  orde'r ;  which  in  its  turn  found  its  support  in 
his  splendid  talents.  But  this  was  the  period  in  which 
luxury  had  risen  in  those  cities,  and  especially  in  the 
rich  families,  to  a  degree  never  before  known.  It 
could  not  escape  a  man  like  him,  that  this  corruption 
of  manners  must  be  followed  by  the  downfall  of  his 
party  ;  and  hence  it  was  natural  for  him  to  resolve  to 
found  his  political  reform  on  a  moral  one.f  Being 
intimately  connected  with  the  higher  order,  he  united 
them  in  a  narrower  circle  ;  and  necessity  soon  occa- 
sioned a  distinction  to  be  made  between  the  class  of 
those  who  were  on  probation,  and  those  who  were 
already  admitted. J  Self-government  was  the  grand 
object  of  his  moral  reform.  For  this  end  he  found  it 
necessary  to  prescribe  a  certain  manner  of  life, 
which  was  distinguished  by  a  most  cleanly  but 
not  luxurious  clothing,  a  regular  diet,  a  methodi- 
cal division  of  time,  part  of  which  was  to  be  appro- 
priated to  one's  self  and  part  to  the  state.  And  this 
may  have  contributed  not  a  little  to  the  formation  of 

*  The  party  of  the  nobles.  500  in  number,  fled  after  their  banishment  from 
thence  to  Croton,  and  prayed  for  protection ;  which  they  received  princi- 
pally by  the  advice  of  Pythagoras.  Diod.  xii.  p.  77.  Wechel.  The  passages 
which  prove  that  those  cities  had  aristocratical  constitutions,  may  be  found 
in  Meinei  s,  i.  396. 

t  See  the  passages  in  evidence  of  this,  and  the  incredible  sensation  pro- 
duced by  him,  in  Meiners,  i.  p.  396. 

{  Therefore  in  Herod,  ii.  81,  the  Pythagorean  sect  is  enumerated  among 
the  mysteries, 

37 


290  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

those  firm  friendships,  without  which  not  much  influ- 
ence on  public  affairs  can  be  exercised  in  republics. 
His  acquaintance  with  speculative  and  mathematical 
science  need  not  here  be  mentioned,  since  it  is  alto- 
gether unknown  to  us,  how  far  he  applied  it  to 
political  purposes. 

When  we  consider,  that  his  society,  of  which  he 
himself  formed  the  central  point,  but  which  had  its 
branches  in  the  other  cities  of  Magna  Grsecia,  and 
according  to  some  accounts  even  in  Carthage  and 
Cyrene,  continued  to  exist  for  at  least  thirty  years, 
we  can  realize,  that  it  may  have  borne  not  only 
blossoms,  but  fruits.  His  disciples  came  by  degrees 
to  fill  the  most  important  posts,  not  only  in  Croton, 
but  also  in  the  other  Grecian  cities  ;  and  yet  at  the 
time  of  the  destruction  of  Sybaris,  the  sect  must  have 
existed  in  its  full  force ;  since  Pythagoras  advised 
the  reception  of  the  banished  ;*  and  in  the  war 
against  Sybaris,  one  of  his  most  distinguished  scholars, 
the  wrestler  Milo,f  held  the  supreme  command.  But 
when  a  secret  society  pursues  political  ends,  it  naturally 
follows,  that  an  opposing  party  increases  in  the  same 
degree  in  which  the  preponderating  influence  of  such 
a  society  becomes  more  felt.J  But  in  this  case,  the 
opposition  existed  already  in  the  popular  party.  &  It 

*  Diod.  1.  c. 

t  Violent  bodily  exercises  formed  a  part  of  the  discipline  of  Pythagoras. 
Six  times  in  one  Olympiad,  prizes  atOIyinpia  were  gained  in  those  days  by 
inhabitants  of  Croton.  Must  not  this  too  have  contributed  to  increase  the 
fame  of  Pythagoras  ? 

$  Need  I  cite  the  example  of  the  Illuminati  ? 

§  Cylon,  the  author  of  that  commotion,  is  described  as  the  leader  of  the 
democratic  party  ;  and  this  is  proved  by  the  anarchy  which  ensued  after  (lie 
catastrophe,  and  continued  till  order  was  restored  by  the  mother  cities  in 
Achaia. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.     291 

therefore  only  needed  a  daring  leader,  like  Cylon,  to 
scatter  the  society  by  violence ;  the  assembly  was 
surprised,  and  most  of  them  cut  down,  while  a  few  only, 
and  with  them  their  master,  escaped.  After  such  a  vic- 
tory of  the  adverse  faction,  the  expulsion  of  the  rest  of 
the  Pythagoreans  who  remained  alive,  from  their 
offices,  was  a  natural  consequence  ;  and  the  political 
importance  of  the  society  was  at  an  end.  It  was 
never  able  to  raise  its  head  again. 

With  the  political  doctrines  of  the  Pythagoreans, 
we  are  acquainted  only  from  later  writers,  who  are 
yet  worthy  of  credit,  and  of  whom  accounts  and  frag- 
ments have  been  preserved,  especially  in  the  collec- 
tions of  Stobseus.  "  They  regarded  anarchy,"  says 
Aristoxenus,*  "  as  the  greatest  evil ;  because  man 
cannot  exist  without  social  order.  They  held  that 
every  thing  depended  on  the  relation  between  the 
governing  and  the  governed  ;  that  the  former  should 
be  not  only  prudent,  but  mild ;  and  that  the  latter 
.  should  not  only  obey,  but  love  their  magistrates ;  that 
it  was  necessary  to  grow  accustomed  even  in  boyhood 
to  regard  order  and  harmony  as  beautiful  and  useful, 
disorder  and  confusion  as  hateful  and  injurious." 
From  the  fragments  of  the  writings  of  the  early  Py- 
thagoreans, as  of  Archytas,  Diotogenes,  and  Hippo- 
damus,t  we  perceive  that  they  were  not  blindly 
attached  to  a  single  form  of  government ;  but  only 
insisted  that  there  should  be  no  unlawful  tyranny. 

*Stob.  Serra.  xli.  p.  243.  This  evidence  is  taken  either  from  Aristoxe- 
nus,  or  from  Aristotle  himself,  and  therefore,  according  to  Miners,  not  to  be 
rejected. 

t  Meiners  considers  all  these  writings  as  not  genuine.  His  reasoning 
however  does  not  apply  to  the  political  fragments,  which  are  to  be  found  in 
cap.  xli.  and  xliii.  It  is  remarkable  that  he  says  almost  nothing  of  the  polit- 
ical doctrines  of  Pythagoras. 


292  CH AFTER  FOURTEENTH. 

Where  a  royal  government  existed,  kings  should  be 
subject  to  the  laws,  and  act  only  as  the  chief  magis- 
trates.* They  regarded  a  mixed  constitution  as  the 
best ;  and  although  they  were  far  from  desiring  un- 
limited democracies,  they  desired  quite  as  little 
unlimited  aristocracies  :  but  even  where  the  adminis- 
tration resided  principally  in  the  hands  of  the  upper 
class,  they  reserved  a  share  of  it  for  the  people. f 

Though  the  political  agency  of  the  society  termi- 
nated with  its  dissolution,  the  Pythagorean  lessons  by 
no  means  became  extinct.  They  were  extended 
through  Greece  with  the  writings  of  the  Pythagoreans, 
who  were  paid  with  high  prices ;  but  in  that  country 
they  gained  political  importance,  only  so  far  as 
they  contributed  to  the  education  of  individual  distin- 
guished men.  Of  these,  we  need  only  to  mention 
Epaminondas. 

In  Greece,  the  sophists  are  generally  considered 
to  have  been  the  first,  who  applied  philosophy  to 
political  science,  which  then  became  a  subject  of  sci- 
entific instruction.  Yet  Plutarch,  in  a  remarkable 
passage.  J  speaks  of  a  political  school  which  had  been 
kept  up  in  Athens,  from  the  time  of  Solon.  "  The- 
mistocles/'  says  he,  "  could  not  have  been  a  pupil  of 
Anaxagoras,  as  some  contend.  He  was  a  disciple  of 
Mnesiphilus,  who  \vas  neither  an  orator,  nor  one  of 
the  physical  philosophers  ;§  but  who  was  employed 
on  that  kind  of  wisdom,  which  consists  in  political 
skill  and  practical  sagacity,  and  which  from  the  time 
of  Solon,  had  been  preserved  as  in  a  school."  That  a 

»  See  in  particular  the  fragments  of  Arctiytas.     Serm.  xliv.  p.  314. 
I  Compare  the  fragment  of  Diotogenes,  cap.  xlvi.  p.  329. 
tin  Themistocles,  Op.  i.  p.  440. 
§  The  Ionian  and  Eleatic  sages. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.       293 

man  like  Solon  should  have  gathered  around  himself 
a  circle  which  he  made  acquainted  with  his  thoughts 
and  maxims,  was  not  only  natural,  but  was  necessary 
for  the  preservation  of  his  code  of  laws ;  and  it  was 
not  less  natural  that  his  younger  friends  should  in  turn 
deliver  to  theirs  the  principles  of  that  venerable  sage. 
But  the  words  of  the  biographer  himself,  show  clearly 
enough,  that  no  methodical  instruction  was  given ; 
but  principles  of  practical  wisdom,  consisting  in  max- 
ims for  the  conducting  of  public  affairs,  and  drawn 
from  experience  ;  maxims  of  which  the  few  remaining 
poetical  fragments  of  the  lawgiver  contain  so  valuable 
a  store. 

From  this  practical  direction,  the  Grecian  philos- 
ophers after  the  times  of  Pythagoras  entirely  with- 
drew; and  devoted  themselves  altogether  to  meta- 
physical speculations.  They  were  employed  in 
inquiries  respecting  the  elements,  and  the  nature  of 
things ;  and  came  necessarily  upon  the  question, 
which  has  so  often  been  repeated,  and  which  never 
can  be  answered,  respecting  the  truth  or  falsehood 
of  the  perceptions  of  our  senses.  We  know  with  what 
zeal  these  inquiries  were  made  in  the  Eleatic  school. 
They  employed  in  a  great  measure  Xenophanes,  Par- 
menides,  Heraclitus,  Empedocles,  and  others.  If 
therefore  we  read  of  individuals  among  these  men, 
that  they  attained  to  political  eminence,*  their  phi- 
losophy was  connected  with  their  political  station  only 
so  far  as  they  thus  became  conspicuous  ;  arid  because 
wise  men  were  selected  for  counsellors.  In  one  point  a 
nearer  relation  existed  between  their  philosophy  and 

*  As  Empedocles  in  Agrigentum  ;  who  is  said  to  have  refused  the  diadem, 
and  confirmed  the  liberties  of  the  people.    Diog.  Laurt.  viii.  ii.  9. 


294  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

the  state ;  we  mean  in  their  diminishing  or  attempt- 
ing to  diminish  the  respect  for  the  popular  religion. 
In  a  country  where  the  religion  was  a  poetical  one, 
and  where  philosophy  had  become  entirely  distinct 
from  religion,  the  spirit  of  free,  unlimited  speculation, 
on  its  awakening,  could  not  but  scrutinize  the  popular 
faith,  and  soon  detect  its  weaknesses.  This  we  hear 
was  done  by  Xenophanes,  who  with  equal  boldness 
used  bitter  expressions  respecting  the  Gods  and  the 
epic  poets  who  have  invented  about  the  gods  such 
indecent  fables.*  This  contradiction  between  philos- 
ophy and  the  popular  religion,  is  on  the  one  side  the 
most  certain  proof  of  the  independence  of  the  former  ; 
but  it  was  also  the  point,  in  which  the  state  and  philos- 
ophy came  in  contact,  not  without  danger  to  the 
state,  and  if  not  to  philosophy  itself,  yet  to  the  phi- 
losophers. 

Yet  however  far  the  speculations  of  those  reason- 
ers  were  removed  from  the  state  and  from  politics,  the 
spirit  of  the  times  and  necessity  created  many  points 
of  contact ;  which  serve  to  explain  the  appearance  of 
the  sophists,  and  the  part  which  they  acted.  With- 
out regarding  their  doctrines,  we  may  find  their 
external  character  designated  by  the  circumstance, 
that  they  were  the  first  who  gave  instruction  for  pay. 
This  presupposes  that  the  want  of  scientific  instruc- 
tion began  to  be  felt ;  and  this  again  implies,  that 
independent  of  such  instruction,  the  nation  had  made 
progress  in  intellectual  culture.  In  other  words  ;  he 
who  desired  to  become  distinguished  in  the  state,  felt 
the  necessity  of  improving  his  mind  by  instruction. 
He  was  obliged  to  learn  to  speak,  and  therefore  to 
think  ;  and  exercises  in  these  two  things  constituted 

*Diog.  LafirL  ix.  ii.  3. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.       295 

the  whole  instruction  of  the  sophists.  But  it  was  of 
great  importance,  that  the  minds  of  men  had  been 
employed  and  continued  to  be  employed  so  much  with 
those  metaphysical  questions,  which,  as  they  from 
their  very  nature  can  never  be  answered  with  certain- 
ty, are  well  suited  for  disputation,  and  admit  so 
various  answers. 

From  the  copious  inquiries  which  have  been  made 
respecting  the  sophists  by  modern  writers  of  the 
history  of  philosophy,*  and  from  the  preceding 
remarks,  it  is  sufficiently  evident  that  they  were  a 
fruit  of  the  age.  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  the  most 
celebrated  of  them  came  from  the  most  various  parts 
of  the  Grecian  world ;  Gorgias,  who  begins  the  series 
from  Leontium  in  Sicily ;  Protagoras  from  Abdera 
on  the  coast  of  Thrace ;  Hippias  from  Colophon  in 
Asia  Minor ;  not  to  mention  a  multitude  of  those 
who  were  less  famous.  This  is  a  remarkable  proof, 
how  generally,  since  the  Persian  wars,  a  literary 
spirit  had  begun  to  animate  the  nation.  Most  of 

*Yet  even  after  all  that  has  here  been  done  by  Meiners,  Tenneman,  and 
others,  many  things  remain  obscure  ;  for  the  explanation  of  which,  the  foun- 
dation must  be  laid  in  a  more  accurate  chronology  of  the  sophists.  Even  the 
sophists  before  the  Macedonian  times  (of  a  later  period  we  here  make  no  men- 
tion) did  not  continue  the  same  ;  and  we  should  do  Gorgias  and  Protagoras 
great  injustice,  were  we  to  place  them  in  the  same  rank  with  those,  against 
whom  the  aged  Isocrates  in  his  Panathenaicus,  Op.  p.  236,  and  De  Sophistic,  p. 
293,  makes  such  bitter  complaints.  Gorgias,  Protagoras,  and  Hippias,  were 
commonly  called  the  elder  sophists ;  of  whom  Gorgias  is  said  to  have  come 
to  Athens  in  the  year  427  as  ambassador,  although  this  is  not  mentioned  by 
Thucydides.  But  it  is  evident  from  Aristophanes,  who  brought  his  Clouds 
upon  the  stage,  for  the  first  time,  424  years  B.  C.,  that  at  that  epoch,  tht 
sophists  had  already  been  long  established  at  Athens.  It  appears  that  the 
great  celebrity  and  wealth  of  the  sophists  commenced  in  the  times  of  Gorgi- 
as and  the  following.  In  the  Clouds,  Socrates  and  his  pupils  are  represented 
•o  far  from  being  rich,  as  poor  wretches,  who  do  not  know  how  they  are  to 
subsist  from  one  day  to  another. 


296  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

those  men,  it  is  true,  removed  to  Athens ;  to  which 
place  Gorgias  was  sent  as  ambassador  during  the 
Peloponnesian  war ;  because  this  city,  so  long  as  it 
held  the  first  rank,  opened  the  widest  and  most  profi- 
table theatre  for  their  exertions  ;  but  they  also  often 
travelled  through  the  cities  of  Greece  in  the  train  of 
their  pupils  ;  met  with  the  kindest  reception  ;  and 
were  employed  as  counsellors  in  public  affairs,  and 
,  not  unfrequently  as  ambassadors.  They  gave  instruc- 
tion at  a  high  price  to  all  young  men  who  joined 
them,  in  every  branch  of  knowledge,  deemed  essential 
to  their  education.  This  undoubtedly  occasione4 
that  boasting  of  univeral  knowledge,  which  has  been 
laid  to  their  charge  ;  but  it  must  also  be  remembered, 
that  in  those  days  the  extent  of  the  sciences  was  still 
very  limited. 

The  sophists  at  first  embraced  in  their  course  of 
instruction,  philosophy  as  well  as  rhetoric.  But  that 
which  they  called  philosophy,  was,  as  with  the  scho- 
lastic philosophers,  the  art  of  confounding  an  opponent 
•by  syllogisms  and  sophisms ;  and  the  subjects  about 
which  they  were  most  fond  of  speculating,  were  some 
of  those  metaphysical  questions,  respecting  which  we 
ought  finally  to  learn,  that  we  never  can  know  any 
thing.  This  kind  of  reasoning,  since  disputation  and 
speaking  were  taught,  was  very  closely  connected 
with  rhetoric.  Subsequently  the  sophists  and  rheto- 
ricians formed  distinct  classes ;  but  the  different 
classes,  which  Isocrates  distinguished  in  his  old  age,* 
could  hardly  have  been  so  decidedly  marked  in  his 
youth. 

*  Isocrates,  Op.  p.  393,  etc. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.     297 

The  precepts  and  the  very  name  of  the  sophists 
became  odious  among  the  ancients  ;  and  it  would  be 
in  vain  to  attempt  to  free  them  entirely  from  the 
reproaches,  which  were  cast  on  them  by  sages  and  by 
the  comic  writers.  But  yet  they  cannot  be  deprived 
of  the  glory  of  having  made  the  higher  class  of  their 
nation  sensible  of  the  necessity  of  a  liberal  education. 
They  rose  rapidly  and  extraordinarily,  because  they 
were  deeply  connected  with  the  wants  of  the  times. 
In  states,  where  every  thing  was  discussed  orally,  and 
where  every  thing  was  just  beginning  to  bloom,  the 
instructers  in  logic  and  rhetoric  could  not  but  be 
acceptable.  But  in  two  respects,  they  soon  became 
injurious  and  even  dangerous  to  the  state  ;  by  reduc- 
ing eloquence  to  the  mere  art  of  disputing,  and  by 
degrading  or  ridiculing  the  popular  religion. 

The  first  seems  to  have  been  a  very  natural  conse- 
quence of  the  condition  of  the  sciences  at  that  time.  The 
more  limited  is  the  knowledge  of  men,  the  more  bold  are 
they  in  their  assertions  ;  the  less  they  know,  the  more 
they  believe  they  do  and  can  know.  Man  persuades 
himself  of  nothing  more  readily,  than  that  he  has 
arrived  at  the  bounds  of  human  knowledge.  This 
belief  creates  in  him  a  dogmatical  spirit ;  because  he 
believes  he  can  prove  every  thing.  But  where  it  is 
believed,  that  every  thing  can  be  proved,  there  natu- 
rally arises  the  art  of  proving  the  contrary  proposi- 
tion ;  and  the  art  of  disputing  among  the  sophists 
degenerated  to  this.  The  art  of  confounding  right 
and  wrong,  objected  to  them  by  the  comic  poets,  may 
have  had  a  very  injurious  influence  on  social  life  ;  but 
a  greater  evil  resulting  from  it  was  the  destroying  of 
a  nice  sense  of  truth  ;  for  even  truth  itself  becomes 
38 


298    .  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

contemptible,  when  it  is  believed,  that  it  can  as  well 
be  refuted,  as  established,  by  an  argument. 

That  the  popular  religion  was  held  in  less  esteem, 
was  probably  a  consequence  of  the  more  intimate 
connexion,  which  existed  between  the  elder  sophists 
and  their  predecessors  and  contemporaries  of  the 
Eleatic  school.  In  these  accusations  injustice  has 
perhaps  been  done  to  some  of  them ;  for  it  may  be 
doubted  whether  Protagoras  deserved  the  name  of 
atheist  ;*  yet  no  circumstance  probably  contributed 
so  much  to  make  them  odious  in  the  eyes  of  the 
people. 

If  to  these  things  we  add  their  lax  moral  principles, 
which  consisted  in  lessons  of  prudence,  how  life  could 
be  made  easy  and  be  enjoyed,  but  which  doubtless 
assisted  in  procuring  for  them  pupils  and  followers, 
we  can  survey  all  the  evil  influence  which  they 
exercised.  And  yet  these  very  aberrations  of  the 
human  understanding  may  have  been  necessary,  to 
awaken  the  minds  which  were  to  point  out  better 
paths. 

The  son  of  Sophroniscus  is  the  first  among  these. 
He  began  the  opposition  to  the  sophists.  Just  as  Philip 
called  forth  a  Demosthenes,  the  sophists  produced  a 
Socrates.  After  all  that  antiquity  has  left  us  con- 
cerning him,  and  all  the  observations  of  modern  his- 
torians, he  is  one  of  the  characters  most  difficult  to  be 
understood,  and  stands  by  himself,  not  only  in  his 
own  nation,  but  in  the  whole  history  of  the  culture  of 
our  race.  For  what  sage,  who  was  neither  a  public 

*  He  had  only  said  he  knew  not  whether  the  gods  existed  or  not ; 
yet  for  this  he  was  banished  from  Athens,  and  his  writings  were  burnt.  Sext. 
Emp.  ix.  57.  That  the  atheism  of  Prodicus  is  uncertain,  has  been  already 
observed  by  Tennemann.  Gesch.  d.  Phil.  i.  S.  377. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.       299 

teacher,  nor  a  writer,  nor  a  religious  reformer,  has 
had  such  an  influence  on  his  own  age  and  on  posterity, 
as  he?  We  willingly  concede,  that  his  sphere  of 
action  has  far  exceeded  his  own  expectations  and  de- 
signs. These  hardly  had  reference  to  posterity. 
Every  thing  seems  to  indicate,  that  they  were  calcu- 
lated for  his  contemporaries  alone.  But  it  may  with 
justice  be  remarked,  that  this  only  increases  the 
difficulty  of  an  explanation.  For  who  will  not  ask ; 
How  could  this  man,  without  intending  it,  have  had 
an  influence  on  all  centuries  after  his  time  ?  The 
chief  reason  is  to  be  found  in  the  nature  of  his  philos- 
ophy ;  yet  external  causes  came  to  his  assistance. 

After  so  many  have  written  upon  his  philosophy, 
it  would  be  superfluous  to  delineate  it  anew.  It 
made  its  way,  because  it  immediately  related  to  the 
higher  matters  of  interest  to  man.  While  the  soph- 
ists were  brooding  over  mere  speculations,  and  their 
contests  were  but  contests  of  words,  Socrates  taught 
those  who  came  near  him,  to  look  into  themselves ; 
man  and  his  relations  with  the  world  were  the  objects 
of  his  investigations.  That  we  may  not  repeat  what 
has  already  been  so  well  remarked  by  others,  we  will 
here  allow  ourselves  only  some  general  observations 
respecting  the  philosopher  himself  and  his  career. 

His  influence  was  most  closely  connected  with  the 
forms  of  social  life  in  Athens ;  in  a  country  where 
these  are  not  the  same,  a  second  Socrates  could  never 
exercise  the  influence  of  the  first.  He  gave  instruc- 
tion neither  in  his  house,  nor  in  any  fixed  place  ;  the 
public  squares  and  halls  were  the  favourite  scenes  of 
his  conversations.  For  such  instruction  a  proper 
audience  can  be  found  only  in  a  nation,  in  which 


300  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

private  life  is  in  a  very  high  degree  public  in  its  na- 
ture. This  was  the  case  with  the  Athenians.  Such 
a  method  of  teaching  could  be  effectual  among  them, 
because  they  were  not  only  accustomed  to  pass  a  large 
portion  of  the  day  in  places  of  public  resort,  but  also 
to  speak  of  almost  every  subject  which  could  occur. 
It  was  here  that  the  sophists  passed  much  of  their 
time,  not  to  give  formal  instruction,  which,  as  it  was 
paid  for,  was  given  in  a  definite  place,  but,  as  Plato 
reproaches  them,  in  order  to  gain  rich  young  men  as 
pupils.  The  war  which  Socrates  had  once  for  all 
declared  against  them,  made  him  from  choice  and 
most  frequently  pass  his  time,  where  he  could  expect 
to  find  his  adversaries,  as  well  as  his  friends  and 
followers.* 

The  manner  in  which  he  taught,  was  not  less 
important.  It  was  by  conversation,  not  by  continued 
discourse.  He  had  therefore  adopted  the  very  man- 
ner which  is  most  suitable  to  public  places.  But  in 
two  respects,  his  conversation,  apart  from  the  matter 
it  contained,  was  distinguished  from  the  common 
intercourse  of  life.  The  one  was  the  irony  which  he 
knew  how  to  introduce,  especially  in  his  attacks  on  the 
sophists;  the  other  and  more  important,  was  the 
conviction  which  he  often  expressed,  that  he  spoke 
from  the  impulse  of  divine  power.  Socrates  differs 
from  the  whole  class  of  men,  whom  we  embrace  under 

*  From  this  point  of  resemblance,  I  think  we  may  explain  how  Aristoph- 
anes could  confound  Socrates  with  the  sophists.  He  represents  him  as  giv- 
ing instruction  for  money,  and  in  a  house  of  his  own,  appropriated  to  study 
(Qftinrrnpi*)  -,  and  these  two  circumstances  are  tnie  of  the  sophists,  but  not 
of  Socrates.  I  can  therefore  discover  in  Aw  Socrates  nothing  but  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  sophists.  To  be  sure  the  comic  poet  would  have  better 
provided  for  his  reputation  with  posterity,  if  he  had  brought  a  Prodicus  or 
Gorgias  upon  the  stage  instead  of  Socrates. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.        301 

the  name  of  prophets  ;  for,  while  these  appear  as  the 
immediate  envoys  and  messengers  of  the  Divinity,  he 
did  but  occasionally  insinuate  his  claim  to  this  character, 
although  he  never  denied  it.  He  neither  desired  to 
found  a  new  religion,  nor  to  improve  the  existing  one  ; 
which  was  necessarily  the  object  of  the  prophets. 
The  appearance  of  a  Socrates  was  therefore  the  noblest 
result  of  the  separation  of  philosophy  from  religion, 
a  merit  belonging  solely  to  the  Greeks;  in  no  Eastern 
nation  could  a  Socrates  have  found  his  sphere. 

But  he  became  a  martyr  to  his  doctrines.  It 
would  be  superfluous  to  prove  anew,  the  groundless- 
ness of  the  charges,  that  he  denied  the  popular  reli- 
gion, and  was  a  corrupter  of  the  youth.*  But  we 
will  not  neglect  to  observe,  that  by  his  death  he  pro- 
duced even  more  important  consequences  than  by  his 
life.  If  he  had  been  snatched  away  by  sickness,  who 
knows  whether  he  would  have  been  remembered  more 
than  other  meritorious  instructers?  His  friends 
and  pupils  would  have  spoken  of  him  with  respect, 
but  hardly  with  enthusiasm.  But  the  poisoned  cup 
ensured  him  immortality.  By  his  death,  in  connex- 
ion with  his  doctrines,  he  exhibited  in  reality  one 
of  those  sublime  ideal  conceptions,  of  which  the  Gre- 
cian nation  alone  is  so  fertile  ;  he  presented  what  till 
then  had  been  wanting,  the  image  of  a  sage  who 
dies  for  his  principles. 

The  philosophy  of  Socrates  had  no  immediate 
relations  with  politics.  Its  object  was  man,  consider- 
ed as  a  moral  being,  not  as  a  citizen.  Hence  it  was 
indirectly  of  the  more  importance  to  the  state ;  since 

f"  *  See,  beside  th£  works  on  the  history  of  philosophy,  the  Essay  of  Tych- 
scn,  Ueher  dnn  Process  dee  Socrates,  in  Bibl.  d.  alien  Litt.  u.  Kunst.  St.  1.  2. 


303  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

it  was  nothing  less  than  an  attempt  to  meet  the  ruin, 
with  which  the  state  was  threatened  by  a  false  kind 
of  philosophy.  This  object  was  not  fully  attained ; 
but  must  the  blame  of  it  be  attributed  to  Socrates  ? 

From  his  school,  or  rather  from  his  circle,  a  num- 
ber of  distinguished  minds  were  produced,  who  in 
part  differed  from  each  other  in  their  opinions  and 
systems,  as  opposite  poles.  This  could  not  have 
happened,  but  because'  Socrates  had  no  system,  and 
hence  laid  no  claims  on  the  spirit  of  inquiry.  He 
would  but  excite  the  minds  of  others ;  and  hence  we 
perceive  how  there  could  have  been  among  his  asso- 
ciates, an  Antisthenes,  who  made  self-denial,  and  an 
Aristippus,  who  made  enjoyment  the  basis  of  ethics  ; 
a  Pyrrho,  whose  object  it  was  to  doubt,  and  a  Euclid, 
who  was  eager  to  demonstrate.  As  the  philosphy  of 
these  men  was  in  no  manner  connected  with  politics, 
we  pass  over  them  ;  that  we  may  not  leave  unmen- 
tioned  the  greatest  of  all  the  pupils  of  Socrates. 

To  comprehend  the  character  of  Plato,  a  genius 
would  be  required,  hardly  inferior  to  his.  Common 
or  even  uncommon  philosophic  acumen,  industry,  and 
learning  in  this  case  are  not  sufficient.  The  mind  of 
Plato  rose  above  visible  objects,  and  entered  on  the 
higher  regions,  where  exist  the  eternal  first  forms  of 
things.  To  these  his  eye  was  undeviatingly  directed, 
as  the  only  regions  where  knowledge  can  be  found, — 
since  there  is  nothing  beyond  opinion  in  the  world  of 
the  senses, — and  where  real  beauty,  goodness,  and 
justice  dwell  eternal  and  unchangeable  as  the  Divin- 
ity, and  yet  distinct  from  the  Divinity.  He  who 
cannot  follow  Plato  to  those  regions,  and  feel  with  him 
in  the  veil  of  mythological  fables,  what  he  himself  felt 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.       303 

rather  than  knew  ;  may  make  many  valuable  and  cor- 
rect remarks  respecting  that  philosopher,  but  is  not 
capable  of  presenting  a  perfect  and  adequate  image  of 
him.  The  attempt  to  give  a  body  to  that  which  is 
etherial,  is  vain ;  for  it  then  ceases  to  be  etherial. 
But  the  relation  in  which  he  stood  to  his  nation  can 
be  very  distinctly  delineated.  In  him  the  poetic 
character  of  the  Greeks  expressed  itself  philosophic- 
ally. It  was  only  in  a  nation  so  thoroughly  poetical, 
that  a  Plato  could  be  produced. 

Socrates  had  contemplated  man  as  a  moral  being ; 
Plato's  philosophy  embraced  the  social  union.  Long 
before  him,  the  state  had  so  far  become  an  object  of 
speculation,  that  writers  had  endeavoured  to  sketch 
the  model  of  a  perfect  constitution.  No  more  imme- 
diate occasion  for  such  exercise  could  be  found  than 
in  the  Grecian  cities,  which  formed  as  it  were  the 
model  of  a  chart  of  free  states;  which. by  means  of 
their  wants  and  changes,  almost  necessarily  conducted 
the  reflecting  mind  to  such  subjects  of  thought.  The 
first  distinct  attempt  of  this  kind,  as  we  expressly 
learn  from  Aristotle,*  was  made  by  Hippodamus  of 
Miletus,  who  must  have  been  a  contemporary  of 
Themistocles.f  The  marked  separation  of  the  three 
classes  of  artists,  agriculturalists,  and  soldiers ;  and 
the  division  which  he  makes  of  land  into  sacred,  pub- 
lic, and  private  land,  remind  us  of  the  Egyptian 
institutions.  *  Not  only  his  plan,  but  that  of  Phaneas 
of  Chalcedon,  is  discussed  at  large  by  Aristotle. 
Investigations  of  constitutions  and  codes  of  laws  now 

*Aristot.Polit.  ii.  cap.  8. 

t  According  to  Aristotle,  he  was  employed  in  the  construction  of  the 
Piraeus,  which  was  the  work  of  Themistocles. 


304  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

became  subjects  frequently  treated  of;  they  could 
hardly  have  much  practical  influence,  since  the  days 
were  past  in  which  new  lawgivers  could  have  appear- 
ed in  Greece.  Of  many  works  composed  in  those 
times,  none  have  come  down  to  us  but  the  two  treati- 
ses of  Plato.  These,  especially  that  of  the  republic, 
are  intelligible  only  to  those  who  comprehend  and 
bear  always  in  mind,  that  the  Greeks  regarded  a 
state  as  a  moral  person,  which  governs  itself,  and 
cannot  be  swayed  by  any  impulse  from  a  higher 
power,*  nor  be  governed  by  another.  Then  it  is  no 
longer  difficult  to  explain  the  close  and  indissoluble 
union  between  morals  and  politics,  a  union  which 
modern  writers  have  so  frequently  called  in  question. 
During  the  days  of  the  freedom  of  Greece,  almost 
every  grand  question  connected  with  theoretical  or 
practical  philosophy,  was  made  the  object  of  inquiry 
and  discussion.  The  later  writers  may  perhaps  have 
answered  them  differently  and  with  greater  acuteness  : 
but  to  these  earliest  belongs  the  great  merit  of  having 
presented  to  the  reflecting  mind,  the  objects  after  which 
they  should  strive.  The  relations  of  the  later  systems 
of  Grecian  philosophy  to  the  earlier  ones,  show  how  far 
the  Stoic  system  was  allied  to  the  Cynic,  the  Epicu- 
rean to  the  Cyrenaic,  that  of  the  later  sceptics  to 
that  of  Pyrrho  and  the  Eleatic  school, — these  subjects 
we  leave  to  be  explained  by  some  writer,  who  is  capa- 
ble of  giving,  not  a  voluminous,  but  succinct  and  spir- 
ited account  of  the  efforts  made  among  the  Greeks  by 
the  understanding,  as  employed  on  subjects  of  phi- 
losophy. 

*  We  would  here  especially  refer  to  the  following  excellent  treastise.  J. 
L.  G.  de  Geer.  Diatribe  in  Politices  Platonics  Principle.  Trajecti  ad  Rhe- 
nutn,  1810. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.  305 

If  the  relation  of  philosophy  to  the  political  insti- 
tutions must  be  estimated  by  its  reaction  on  them,  the 
reverse  is  in  some  measure  true  of  the  science  of  history. 
This  stands  in  connexion  with  the  state,  in  as  much  as 
it  is  the  result  of  the  changes  and  destinies  of  the 
state.  It  is  true,  that  history  was  not  long  limited 
among  the  Greeks  to  their  own  nation.  As  there 
was  free  intercourse  with  foreigners,  accounts  and 
traditions  respecting  their  origin,  manners,  and  revo- 
lutions became  common.  But  every  thing  proceeded 
from  the  history  of  their  native  country ;  this  always 
remained  the  central  point.  And  here  again  we  per- 
ceive the  just  views  of  the  Greeks.  Is  not  each  nation 
the  nearest  object  to  itself?  And  next  to  the  present 
moment,  what  can  interest  it  more  than  its  own  pre- 
vious condition  ? 

This  was  early  and  very  generally  felt ;  and  if 
historical  accounts  have  been  preserved  but  scantily 
or  not  at  all,  the  fault  is  to  be  attributed,  not  to  the 
want  of  exertions  to  ensure  that  end,  but  to  the  im- 
perfection of  the  means  which  the  nations  could  con- 
trol ;  that  is,  not  merely  to  the  want  of  an  alphabet, 
but  of  the  materials  which  are  used  in  writing.  Per- 
sepolis,  Thebes,  Mexico, — do  not  all  these  furnish 
distinct  proofs  of  the  truth  of  our  remark  ? 

But  not  less  depended  on  the  circumstance,  wheth- 
er any  persons,  a  peculiar  class  or  cast  in  the  nation, 
were  commissioned  to  record  the  events  as  they  pass- 
ed. Where  a  priesthood  existed,  the  preparing  of 
the  calendar,  however  imperfect  or  perfect  it  might  be, 
was  their  business ;  and  to  this  it  was  easy  to  add 
the  writing  of  annals. 
39 


306  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

The  Greeks  had  no  such  separate  order  of  priests  ; 
and  hence  we  hear  nothing  of  any  annals  which  they 
possessed.*  Yet  religion  still  did  something  for 
history.  A  multitude  of  relations,  preserving  the 
memory  of  early  events,  were  associated  with  the  con- 
secrated offerings  in  the  temples.  How  often  are 
these  referred  to  by  Herodotus?  and  the  historical 
remarks  of  Pausanias  are  almost  always  made  in  con- 
nexion with  them.  But  they  could  neither  fix  a 
succession  of  time,  nor  do  more  than  confirm  single 
facts. 

The  history,  therefore,  of  the  Greeks  emanated 
from  an  entirely  different  source,  from  tradition  ;  and 
since  this  supplied  poetry  with  its  subjects,  the  poets 
remained  for  centuries  the  sole  preservers  of  traditional 
accounts.  But  it  does  not  follow,  that  Grecian  history 
was  an  invention,  because  it  was  originally  poetical. 
Indeed  it  never  entirely  lost  that  character.  The 
subjects  of  history,  as  presented  by  tradition,  were 
only  interwoven  with  fictions.  But  it  is  obvious  of 
itself,  that  the  character  of  the  Grecian  traditions  must 
have  had  a  great  or  even  a  decisive  influence  on  the 
character  of  their  history. 

By  means  of  the  original  and  continued  division 
of  the  nation  into  many  tribes,  the  traditions  were 
very  much  enriched.  Each  tribe  had  its  heroes  and 
its  deeds  of  valour  to  employ  the  bard.  To  convince 
ourselves  of  this,  we  need  but  cast  a  glance  on  the 
tales  of  the  Grecian  heroes.  Individuals  among  them 
who  were  more  distinguished  than  the  rest,  as  Hercu- 

*  Where  a  sort  of  hereditary  priesthood  existed,  as  in  Sicyon,  from  the 
earliest  times,  a  sort  of  annals  was  connected  with  it.  They  seem,  however, 
to  have  consisted  chiefly  in  an  enumeration  of  the  succession  of  priests,  and 
therefore  hardly  deserve  the  name. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.       307 

les  and  Jason,  became  the  heroes  of  the  nation,  and 
therefore  the  favourites  of  the  poets.  And  after  the 
first  great  national  enterprise,  after  Troy  had  fallen, 
need  we  be  astonished  that  the  historic  muse  prefer- 
red this  to  all  other  subjects  ? 

All  this  is  too  well  known  to  need  any  more  copi- 
ous exposition.*  But  much  as  Homer  and  the  cyclic 
poets  eclipsed  the  succeeding  ones,  historic  poetry 
kept  pace  with  the  political  culture  of  the  nation. 
This  union  we  must  not  leave  unobserved. 

That  advancement  in  political  culture  was,  as,we 
observed  above,  connected  with  the  rising  prosperity 
of  the  cities  in  Greece  and  of  the  colonies.  The 
founding  of  cities  therefore  formed  an  essential  part 
of  the  earlier  history.  But  cities  were  founded  by 
heroes;  and  the  traditions  respecting  these  things 
were  therefore  intimately  connected  with  the  rest. 
Who  does  not  see,  how  wide  a  field  was  here  opened 
for  historic  poetry?  Such  narrations  had  always 
a  lasting  interest  for  the  inhabitants ;  they  were  by 
their  very  nature,  of  a  kind  to  be  exaggerated  till 
they  became  marvellous  ;  and  were  connected  with 
accounts  of  the  most  ancient  voyages ;  stories  of  the 
wonders  of  foreign  and  distant  countries  ;  the  island 
of  the  Cyclops,  the  garden  of  the  Hesperides,  the  rich 
Iberia,  and  others.  What  could  afford  more  agreea- 
ble nourishment  to  the  imagination  of  a  youthful 
people  ?  What  could  be  more  attractive  to  the 
poets  ? 

Hence  there  arose  among  the  Greeks  a  particular 
class  of  historic  poems,  which  is  known  by  the  name 

*  See  Heyne.  Historiae  scribendae  inter  Grsecos  primordia.     Comment. 
Soc.  Sc.  Getting,  vol.  xiv. 


308  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

of  xrifcis,  or  poems  commemorative  of  the  founding  of 
the  several  cities  ;  but  which  both  in  subject  and  form 
were  in  the  closest  union  and  alliance  with  the  others. 
It  embraced,  it  is  true,  the  cities  of  the  mother  coun- 
try ;  but  chiefly  the  colonies ;  and  was  doubtless 
later  than  the  Homeric  age. 

History  continued  to  be  treated  in  a  poetical 
manner,  till  near  the  time  of  the  Persian  wars.  How 
deeply,  therefore,  must  the  poetic  character  have  been 
imprinted  upon  Grecian  history  ?  Experience  has 
taught  that  it  was  indelibly  so.  When  the  first 
writers  appeared  who  made  use  of  prose,  this  char- 
acter was  changed  only  with  respect  to  the  form,  but 
by  no  means  to  the  matter.  They  related  in  prose 
what  the  poets  had  told  in  verse.  This  is  expressly 
stated  by  Strabo.*  "  The  earliest  writers,"  says  he, 
"  Cadmus  of  Miletus,  Pherecydes,  Hecatseus,  preserv- 
ed the  poetic  character,  though  not  the  measure  of 
verse.  Those  who  came  after  them,  were  the  first  to 
descend  from  that  height  to  the  present  style  of  writ- 
ing.'"' The  opinion  of  Cicero  seems  therefore  to  have 
been  ill  founded,  when  he  compares  the  oldest  histo- 
rians, and  particularly  Pherecydes  with  the  earliest 
annalists  of  the  Romans,  Fabius  Pictor  and  Cato,f 
whose  style  was  certainly  not  poetical. 

The  larger  number  and  the  earliest  of  the  narra- 
tors of  traditions,!  as  Herodotus  styles  them  in  dis- 
tinction from  the  epic  poets,  were  lonians.  Epic 
poetry  was  followed  by  narrations  in  prose,  in  the 
very  countries  where  it  had  been  cultivated  most 

•  Strabo,  i.  p.  12.  Casaub. 
t  Cicero  de  Oratore,  ii.  12. 
J  The  A«y»yf«f«,  as  Hecataeus  and  other?. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.     309 

successfully.  History  has  left  us  in  uncertainty 
respecting  the  more  immediate  causes  of  this  change  ; 
but  has  not  the  East  always  been  the  land  of  fables? 
Here,  where  the  crowd  of  colonial  cities  was  spring- 
ing up,  which  were  founded  toward  the  end  of  the 
heroic  age,  that  class  of  narrations  which  relate  to 
these  subjects,  found  the  most  appropriate  themes. 
In  explaining  therefore  the  origin  of  historic  science 
among  the  Greeks,  it  may  perhaps  be  proper  to  re- 
member, that  they  participated  in  the  character  of 
the  oriental  nations ;  although  they  merit  the  glory 
of  having  subsequently'given  to  that  science  its  true 
and  peculiar  character. 

But  in  the  period  in  which  the  prose  style  of 
narration  was  thus  forming,  the  improvement  of  his- 
toric science  appears  to  have  been  promoted  by  sev- 
eral very  natural  causes.  The  larger  number  and 
the  most  celebrated  of  those  mythological  historians 
lived  and  flourished  in  the  latter  half  of  the  sixth  cen- 
tury before  the  Christian  era  ;  that  is,  not  long  before 
the  commencement  of  the  Persian  wars.*  Of  these 
the  earliest  are  said  to  have  been  Cadmus  of  Miletus, 
and  Hecataeus  of  the  same  place,  Acusilaus  of  Argos, 
Pherecydes  of  Syros,  Charon  of  Lampsacus,  and  sever- 
al others  whom  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  enume- 
rates. They  belong  to  the  age  in  which  the  nation 
was  rising  in  youthful  energy ;  when  it  was  already 
extended  to  the  west  and  the  east,  and  its  flourishing 
cities  were  engaged  in  various  commerce ;  when  it 
had  become  acquainted  with  many  nations,  and  trav- 
elling had  begun  to  be  common.  From  the  title  of 
the  works  of  these  narrators  of  traditions,  it  is  evident 

*  Between  tlie  60th  and  70th  Olympiad,  or  540—500  years  B.  C. 


310  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

that  they  were  not  concerned  to  limit  themselves  to 
the  accounts,  which  they  found  in  the  ancient  epic 
poets ;  but  that  they  took  a  wider  range,  embracing 
the  history  of  cities  and  nations,  and  also  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  coasts  of  the  countries.  A  proof  of  this  is 
found  in  the  catalogue  of  the  writings  of  Hellanicus 
the  Lesbian,  one  of  the  latest  of  them.* 

These  remarks,  when  considered  in  connexion, 
will  serve  to  show  us  the  character  of  history  before 
Herodotus.  It  was  in  its  origin  entirely  Grecian ; 
and  even  when  the  sphere  of  observation  was  extend- 
ed to  foreign  countries,  kepf  pace  with  the  political 
advancement  of  the  nation.  It  preserved  its  poetical 
character,  and  therefore  did  not  become  critical ;  but  it 
was  developed  with  perfect  freedom ;  and  was  never 
held  by  the  priests  in  bondage  to  religion.  As  poetry 
had  for  a  long  time  been  the  means  of  its  preserva- 
tion, it  became  in  some  measure  the  play  of  fancy, 
(although  epic  poetry  was  much  more  restricted 
than  the  subsequent  lyric  and  tragic) ;  but  in  return, 
as  it  was  propagated  by  no  hieroglyphics,  it  could 
never,  as  in  Egypt,  degenerate  into  mere  symbolical 
narration.  When  it  came  to  be  transferred  from 
poetry  to  prose,  it  was  necessarily  connected  with 
the  improvements  in  the  art  of  writing ;  and  the 
deficiency  of  our  accounts  respecting  this  pointf  is 
one  of  the  chief  reasons  why  we  are  so  little  able  to 
mark  the  progress  of  its  particular  branches.  But 

*  See  Creuzer :  The  Historic  Art  among  the  Greeks  in  its  Origin  and  Prog- 
ress. Die  historische  Kunst  der  Griechen  in  ihrer  Entstehung  und-Fortbil 
dung,  S.  80.  In  this  excellent  work,  the  inquiry  respecting  the  Xeysyjaf  «< 
is  conducted  with  such  care,  that  I  think  it  sufficient  to  refer  to  it. 

t  Modern  scholars,  by  their  investigations,  have^nade  this  deficiency  very 
apparent.     See  Wolfii  Prolegom.  p.  xl.  etc. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.       311 

whatever  influence  these  causes  may  have  exercised  ; 
the  great  reason  which  retarded  historic  science 
before  Herodotus,  lay  in  the  want  of  subjects. 

Before  the  Persian  wars,  there  was  no  subject  capa- 
ble of  inspiring  the  historian.  The  Trojan  war,  the  Ar- 
gonautic  expedition,  all  great  undertakings,  belonged 
to  tradition,  and  hence  belonged  more  than  half  to  poe- 
try. The  narrations  of  the  origin  of  the  individual  cities, 
accounts  of  distant  nations  and  countries,  might  gratify 
curiosity,  might  afford  amusement ;  but  nothing  more. 
There  existed  no  great  national  subject  of  universal 
interest. 

At  length  came  the  Persian  wars.  The  victory 
at  Marathon  first  awakened  the  spirit  of  valour; 
whether  this  was  more  inflamed  by  the  defeat  at 
Thermopylae,  or  the  victory  at  Salamis,  it  is  difficult 
to  say ;  with  the  battle  of  Platsese,  freedom  was 
saved.  What  a  subject  for  the  historic  Muse! 

This  subject,  from  its  very  nature,  belonged  ex- 
clusively to  history ;  and  poetry  had  no  share  in  it. 
It  was  no  subject  of  hoary  antiquity,  nor  yet  of  the 
present  moment ;  but  of  a  period  which  had  but 
recently  passed  away.  And  yet  it  came  so  variously 
in  contact  with  tradition,  that  a  historian  in  a  critical 
age  would  often  have  been  compelled  to  take  his  walks 
into  the  regions  of  mythology.  How  much  more,  then, 
at  a  time,  when  the  bounds  between  history  and  tra- 
dition had  not  yet  been  in  the  slightest  degree  mark- 
ed out. 

Herodotus  employed  himself  on  this  subject,  and 
managed  it  in  a  manner  which  surpassed  all  expecta- 
tion. Many  things,  it  is  true,  served  to  facilitate 
his  labour.  Many  attempts  had  been  made  to  explain 


312  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

the  earliest  history  of  cities  and  nations  ;  travelling 
had  been  rendered  easy  by  the  extensive  commerce 
of  the  Grecian  cities,  and  several  of  his  predecessors 
are  known  to  have  visited  many  countries  ;*  the  my- 
thological writers  (^oyo-ygatpoi)  had  already  formed 
the  language  for  prosaic  narration ;  and  the  nation 
for  which  he  wrote,  was  already  awake  to  the  beau- 
ties of  historic  composition.  Yet  he  was  the  first  who 
undertook  to  treat  of  u  purely  historical  subject :  and 
thus  to  take  the  decisive  step,  which  gave  to  history 
its  rank  as  an  independent  science.  Yet  he  did  not 
limit  himself  to  his  chief  subject,  but  gave  it  such  an 
extent,  that  his  work,  notwithstanding  its  epic  unity, 
became  in  a  certain  sense  a  universal  history. f  Con- 
tinuing the  thread  of  his  story  from  the  times  when 
controversies  first  arose  between  the  Hellenes  and 
the  barbarians,  till  those  when  at  Platseae  the  war 
was  terminated  so  gloriously  for  the  Greeks,  Hellas, 
attacked  but  liberated,  became  the  great  subject  of 
his  narration ;  opportunities  were  constantly  pre- 
senting themselves  or  were  introduced,  of  interweav- 
ing the  description  and  history  of  the  countries  and 
nations,  which  required  to  be  mentioned ;  without 
ever  losing  sight  of  his  chief  object,  to  which  -he  re- 
turns from  every  episode.  He  had  himself  visited 
the  greater  part  of  these  countries  and  nations  ;  had 
seen  them  with  his  own  eyes  ;  had  collected  informa- 
tion from  the  most  credible  sources.  But  when  he 
enters  upon  the  antiquities  of  the  nations,  especially 
of  his  own,  he  makes  use  of  the  means  afforded  him  by 
his  age;  and  here  his  work  borders  on  those  of  the 

*  As  Hecatzeus  and  Pherecydes. 
t  Only  the  history  of  the  Assyrians  he  reserved  for  a  separate  work  ;  i.  184. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.     313 

earlier  historians  (the  hoyoygoLcpoC).  It  is  no  longer 
necessary  to  appear  as  his  defender ;  posterity  has 
not  continued  unjust  towards  him.  No  writer  has 
received  more  frequent  confirmation  by  the  advances 
which,  within  the  last  thirty  years,  have  been  made  in 
the  knowledge  of  nations  and  countries,  than  Herodo- 
tus, who  was  formerly  so  often  the  object  of  ridi- 
cule. But  our  sole  purpose  was  to  show  in  what 
manner  the  science  of  history  had  been  elevated  by 
his  choice  of  a  subject ;  and  how  this  choice  was 
intimately  connected  with  the  impulse  given  to  the 
political  character  of  his  nation. 

The  first  great  step  had  thus  been  taken.  A 
purely  historical  subject,  relating  to  the  past,  but  to 
no  distant  period,  and  no  longer  belonging  to  tradition, 
had  been  treated  by  a  master,  who  had  devoted  the 
largest  part  of  his  life  to  a  plan,  framed  with  deliber- 
ation and  executed  with  enthusiasm.  The  nation 
possessed  an  historical  work,  which  first  showed  what 
history  is  ;  and  which  was  particularly  well  fitted 
to  awaken  a  taste  for  it.  As  Herodotus  read  his 
work  to  all  Greece  assembled  at  Olympia,  a  youth, 
according  to  the  tradition,  was  incited  by  it  to  be- 
come, not  his  imitator,  but  his  successor. 

Thucydides  appeared.  His  predecessor  had  writ- 
ten a  history  of  the  past.  He  became  the  historian 
of  his  own  time.  He  was  the  first  who  seized  on  this 
idea,  on  which  the  whole  character  of  his  work  de- 
pends ;  though  others,  especially  the  ancient  cities, 
looked  for  it  in  his  style,  his  eloquence,  and  other 
secondary  matters.  By  this  means  he  advanced  the 
the  science  of  history  in  a  higher  degree  than  he 

40 


314  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

himself  was  aware  of.      His  subject  made  him  neces- 
sarily a  critic. 

The  storm  of  the  Persian  wars  had  been  terrific, 
but  transitory.  During  its  continuance,  no  histo- 
rian could  appear.  It  was  not  till  after  its  fury 
had  for  some  time  abated,  and  men  had  regained 
their  composure  of  mind,  that  Herodotus  could  find  a 
place.  Amidst  the  splendor  of  the  victories  which 
had  been  gained,  under  the  shade  of  security  won  by 
valour, — with  what  emotions  did  the  Greek  look 
back  upon  thosfe  years  ?  Who  could  be  more  welcome 
to  him  than  the  historian,  who  painted  for  him  this 
picture  of  his  own  glory,  not  only  as  a  whole,  but  in 
its  parts  !  The  age  of  Thucydides,  on  the  contrary, 
was  full  of  grandeur,  but  of  difficulties.  In  the  long 
and  obstinate  war  with  one  another,  the  Grecian 
states  sought  to  overturn  each  other  from  their  very 
foundations.  It  was  not  the  age  of  wars  only,  but 
of  revolutions  with  all  their  horrors.  Whether  a 
man  were  an  aristocrat  or  democrat,  a  friend  of 
Athens  or  of  Sparta,  was  the  question  on  which 
depended  fortune,  liberty,  and  life.  A  beneficent 
reverse  rescued  Thucydides  from  the  whrilpool ;  and 
gave  him  that  immortality,  which  the  capture  of  Am- 
phipolis  never  could  have  conferred  on  him.*  The 
fruit  of  his  leisure  was  the  history  of  his  age  ;  a  work 
he  himself  proposed  to  write,  and  actually  wrote,  for 
eternity,  t 

+ After  Amphipolis  had  been  taken  by  Brasidas,  Thucydides  was  accused 
of  having  come  too  late  to  the  assistance  of  that  city,  and  was  banished  by 
the  Athenian  people  ;  he  actually  passed  20  years  in  exile  in  Thrace,  where 
he  possessed  valuable  mines.  Let  Thucydides  himself  be  heard  on  this  sub- 
ject, iv.  104,  and  v.  26. 

T^*  £.',-  it}'    Thucyd.  i.  22. 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.       315 

This  is  not  the  place  to  eulogize  the  man,  who 
remained  calm  amidst  all  the  turbulence  of  the  pas- 
sions, the  only  exile  that  has  written  an  impartial 
history.  His  acquaintance  with  states  and  business, 
his  deep  political  acuteness,  his  nervous  style,  though 
occasionally  uncouth, — have  all  been  illustrated  by 
others.  We  will  only  allow  ourselves  to  show,  by  a 
few  remarks,  how  much  historic  science  was  advanced 
by  the  nature  of  his  subject. 

The  undertaking  of  the  man  who  was  the  first  to 
form  the  idea  of  writing  the  history  of  his  own  times, 
and  of  events  in  which  he  himself  had  a  share,  must 
not  be  compared  with  that  of  the  modern  writer,  who 
compiles  it  from  many  written  documents.  He  was 
compelled  to  investigate  every  thing  by  personal  in- 
quiry ;  and  that,  too,  in  a  period  when  every  thing 
was  misrepresented  by  passion  and  party  spirit.  But 
antiquity  had  not  inwrapped  his  subject  in  the  veil  of 
tradition,  nor  had  it  in  its  nature  any  epic  interest. 
The  subject  was  thoroughly  prosaic ;  setting  before 
the  writer  no  other  aim,  than  that  of  exhibiting  the 
truth.  In  this  lay  the  sole  interest ;  and  to  ascertain 
and  repeat  the  truth,  is  all  which  we  can  fairly 
demand  of  the  historian.  We  honour  and  respect 
him,  because,  penetrated  with  the  consciousness  of  his 
dignity,  he  never  for  a  moment  becomes  untrue  to  it. 
A  sentiment  of  reverence  accompanies  us  from  the 
first  to  the  last  leaf  of  his  work.  Not  the  historian, 
History  herself  seems  to  address  us. 

But  to  what  new  views  must  he  have  been  led, 
when  with  the  desire  of  arriving  at  truth,  he  turned 
his  eyes  to  the  form  under  which  history  had  thus  far 
appeared  ?  It  was  his  immediate  aim  to  relate  the 


316  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

events  of  his  own  times ;  but  the  preceding  age  could 
not  remain  wholly  excluded  from  the  sphere  of  his 
observation.  It  appeared  to  him  clothed  in  the  man- 
tle of  tradition  ;  and  he  who  scrutinized  every  thing 
with  care,  was  not  caught  by  its  delusive  splendor. 
He  endeavoured  to  contemplate  antiquity?  as  it  was, 
to  take  from  it  this  false  glare,  leaving  nothing  but  the 
light  of  truth;  and  thus  was  produced  that  invaluable 
introduction  which  precedes  his  work. 

By  such  means  Thucydides  was  the  inventor  of  an 
art,  which  before  him  had  been  almost  unknown,  the 
art  of  historic  criticism  ;  without  being  conscious  of 
the  infinite  value  of  his  invention.  For  he  did  not 
apply  it  to  all  branches  of  knowledge,  but  only  to  his 
subject,  because  it  was  a  natural  consequence  of  that 
subject.  The  historic  Muse  had  made  him  acquaint- 
ed with  her  most  secret  nature  ;  no  one  before  or  after 
him  has  drawn  the  line  more  clearly  between  history 
and  tradition.  And  what  is  this,  but  to  draw  the 
distinction  between  the  historic  culture  of  the  East 
and  West  ?  and — if  we  recognise  how  much  depended 
on  this  historic  culture — between  the  whole  scien- 
tific culture  of  the  East  and  West  ?  For  to  repeat 
a  remark,  which  has  already  been  cursorily  made, 
the  great  difference  between  the  two,  consists  in  this ; 
in  the  West,  the  free  spirit  of  criticism  was  developed, 
and  in  the  East  never. 

It  is  therefore  just  to  say,  that  Thucydides  advan- 
ced with  a  giant's  step.  It  is  just  to  say,  that  he  rose 
above  his  age  ;  neither  his  own  nor  the  following  could 
reach  him.  Poetic  tradition  was  too  deeply  inter- 
woven with  Grecian  history,  to  admit  of  an  entire 
separation.  A  Theopompus  and  Ephorus,  whenever 


SCIENCES  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.       317 

the  heroic  age  was  to  be  discussed,  drew  their  ma- 
terials with  as  little  concern  from  the  writers  of  my- 
thological fables  and  the  poets,  as  if  Thucydides 
never  had  written. 

A  third  step  yet  remained  to  be  taken  ;  and  it 
was  in  some  respects  the  most  dangerous  of  all ;  to 
become  the  historian  of  one's  own  exploits.  This 
step  was  taken  by  Xenophon.  For  when  we  speak  of 
his  historic  writings,  his  Anabasis  so  far  surpasses 
the  rest,  that  it  alone  deserves  to  be  mentioned.  But 
this  new  step  may  with  propriety  be  called  one  of 
the  most  important.  Would  that  he  who  ventured  to 
take  it,  had  found  many  successors  !  By  the  mild- 
ness and  modesty  of  his  personal  character,  Xeno- 
phon was  secured  from  the  faults,  into  which  men  are 
so  apt  to  fall,  when  they  describe  their  own  actions ; 
although  these  virtues  and  the  nature  of  his  subject 
could  not  give  his  work  those  superior  qualities, 
which  the  genius  of  Caesar  knew  how  to  impart  to  his 
commentaries. 

Thus  in  the  period  of  their  freedom,  all  the  prin- 
cipal kinds  of  history  were  developed  among  the 
Greeks.  What  was  done  afterwards,  can  hardly 
be  called  progress,  although  the  subjects  of  history 
grew  more  various  and  more  extensive  with  the 
enlarged  sphere  of  politics  in  the  Macedonian  and 
Roman  age  ;  and  the  idea  of  a  universal  history  was 
more  distinctly  entertained.  But  after  the  downfall 
of  liberty,  when  rhetoric  became  prevalent  and  was 
applied  to  history,  the  higher  kind  of  criticism  ceased 
to  be  employed  in  it.  The  style,  the  manner  in 
which  a  subject  was  treated,  was  regarded ;  not  the 


318  CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

subject  itself.  The  essence  was  forgotten  in  disputes 
about  the  form.  We  have  abundant  proofs  of  this 
in  the  judgments  of  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus,  who 
has  nevertheless  been  usually  mentioned  as  the  first 
of  these  critics. 


POETRY  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.        319 


CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 


POETRY  AND  THE  ARTS  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE. 

WHETHER  in  our  inquiries  on  the  political  insti- 
tutions of  Greece,  their  poetry  and  arts  must  be  con- 
sidered,— will  hardly  be  made  a  question  by  any  of 
my  readers.  Almost  every  one  of  the  preceding 
chapters  has  served  to  show  how  closely  they  were 
connected  with  the  state.  Yet  our  remarks  must  be 
limited  to  the  question  :  What  was  the  nature,  and 
what  were  the  consequences  of  this  connexion  ?  But 
even  in  answering  this  we  might  be  carried  very  far, 
if  we  were  to  pass  the  bounds  which  the  character  of 
this  work  prescribes.  In  speaking  of  poetry,  we 
would  principally  consider  the  dramatic ;  since  we 
have  already  spoken  of  the  epic.  But  the  drama 
can  hardly  be  discussed,  separate  from  lyric  poetry. 
We  place  the  arts  in  immediate  connexion  with  poetry, 
because  nature  herself  had  united  them  among  the 
Greeks ;  among  whom  the  arts  are  as  it  were  the 
key  to  poetry.  The  remark  of  a  modern  critic*  is 
perfectly  true,  that  the  masterpieces  of  the  plastic  art 
furnish  the  best  commentary  on  the  tragedians.  Al- 
though it  is  not  always  the  same  persons  whom  the  poets 
and  the  sculptors  bring  before  us,  we  yet  form  from 
them  our  conceptions  of  the  ideal  forms.  He  who  has 

*  A.  W.  Schlegel,  Uber  dramatische  Kunst  und  Litteratur,  Th.  i.  S.  67. 
A.  W.  Schlegel,  on  Dramatic  Literature. 


320  CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 

seen  the  sublime  figures  of  Niobe  and  of  Laocoon, 
can  easily  represent  to  his  mind  an  Electra  or  an  (Edi- 
pus  in  the  forms  under  which  they  floated  in  the 
mind  of  the  poet. 

With  the  advancing  culture  of  Greece,  the  con- 
nexion between  poetry  and  arts,  and  the  state, 
proportionably  increased ;  and  was  therefore  most 
intimate  in  its  most  flourishing  age.  Even  the  ear- 
liest lawgivers  of  the  Greeks  regarded  poetry  as  the 
chief  means  of  forming  the  character  of  youth  ;  and 
and  even  of  exercising  an  influence  on  their  riper 
years.  But  in  an  age  when  there  was  as  yet  no  lite- 
rature, poetry  could  not  be  separate  from  song ;  and 
was  commonly  accompanied  with  an  instrument. 
Hence  came  the  meaning  of  the  word  music,  which 
embraced  all  this  together.  Yet  this  is  chiefly  true 
of  lyric  poetry,  which,  as  the  immediate  express- 
ion of  the  feelings  of  the  poet,  was  much  more  inti- 
mately connected  with  song  than  the  epic.  If  we  do 
but  bear  constantly  in  mind  the  leading  idea  which 
the  Greek  had  framed  of  a  state,  as  a  moral  person 
which  was  to  govern  itself,  we  can  comprehend  the 
whole  importance,  which  music,  in  the  wider  sense 
of  the  word,  possessed  in  the  eyes  of  the  Grecian 
lawgivers.  It  seemed  to  them  in  that  age,  when  there 
was  as  yet  no  philosophic  culture,  when  the  feelings 
and  the  management  of  the  feelings  were  of  the  great- 
est moment,  the  best  means  of  influencing  them  ;  and 
we  need  not  be  astonished,  when  we  read  in  Plutarch* 
and  other  writers,  of  the  great  severity  with  which  the 
laws,  especially  in  Sparta,  insisted  on  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  ancient  music,  and  the  established  tunes. 

*In  his  Essay  De  Music*.    Op.  H.  p.  1131, 


POETUY  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.    321 

It  may  be  difficult  in  our  days,  when  music  is  no  longer 
considered  the  lever  of  national  force,*  to  form  any 
distinct  idea  of  those  institutions  of  the  ancients. 
But  as  human  nature  is  never  untrue  to  itself,  institu- 
tions which  are  founded  on  it,  are  always  preserved 
to  a  certain  extent  and  under  certain  forms.  In  the 
nineteenth  century,  in  which  there  is  no  longer  any 
danger  of  corrupting  a  nation  by  changes  in  music 
(although  it  would  be  very  presumptuous  to  give  a 
hasty  opinion  on  its  influence  and  effects),  no  regi- 
ment is  raised  without  its  band  ;  and  the  commander, 
who  instead  of  a  warlike  march  should  order  a  dirge 
to  be  played,  would  justly  incur  the  same  reproaches 
with  him  who  in  ancient  days  made  an  unseasonable 
use  of  the  Lydian  instead  of  the  Dorian  measure. 
Lyric  poetry  was  moreover  intimately  connect- 
ed with  the  popular  religion  ;  or  was  in  fact  a  re- 
sult of  it ;  for  hymns  in  praise  of  the  gods  are  men- 
tioned as  its  first  fruits. f  It  was  therefore  important 
to  the  state  as  a  support  of  the  popular  religion ; 
particularly  by  contributing  to  the  splendor  of  the 
festivals.  For  when  was  a  festival  celebrated  by  the 
Greeks,  and  the  songs  of  the  poets  not  heard  ? 
But  they  received  their  greatest  importance  from  the 
institution  of  choral  songs.  These  choruses,  evea 
independent  of  the  drama,  were  the  chief  ornament 
of  the  festivals  ;  and  were  composed  of  persons  of 
various  ages.  There  were  those  of  youths,  of 

"That  in  his  times,  when  music  was  used  only  in  the  theatres,  it  had 
lost  its  ancient  application,  is  the  complaint  of  Plutarch,  ii.  1140. 

t  "  Music,"  says  Plutarch,  ii.  p.  1140,  "  was  first  made  use  of  in  the  tem- 
ples and  sacred  places  in  praise  of  the  gods,  and  for  the  instruction  of  youth, 
long  before  it  was  introduced  into  the  theatres,  which  at  that  time  were  not 
in  existence. 

41 


322  CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 

men,  and  of  the  aged ;  which  responded  to  each  other 
alternately  in  song.*  As  the  festivals  were  a  public 
concern,  so  too  were  the  choruses  ;  and  we  have  no 
cause  to  be  astonished,  that  the  preparation  of  them 
formed  a  part  of  the  civil  burdens. 

The  choral  song  at  the  festivals  was  as  ancient  as 
the  heroic  age,  or  at  least  as  the  times  of  Homer.f 
Although  it  was  capable  of  receiving  great  ornaments 
and  did  actually  receive  them,  it  did  not  necessarily 
require  any  great  preparations.  The  similar  specta- 
cles which  modern  travellers  have  witnessed  in  the 
islands  of  the  South  sea,  especially  the  Society  Is- 
lands, carry  us  back  to  the  earlier  world  of  Greece. 
The  drama  was  the  result  of  those  choruses ;  but 
from  its  nature  it  could  only  be  a  later  fruit  of  the 
poetic  spirit  of  the  nation. 

The  drama  interests  us  here  only  in  its  connexion 
with  the  state.  But  this  inquiry  goes  very  deeply 
into  its  nature.  A  question  arises  of  a  twofold  char- 
acter :  What  did  the  state  do  for  the  drama,  and  in 
what  respects  was  the  drama,  by  its  nature  and  organ- 
ization, connected  with  and  of  importance  to  the 
state  ? 

Dramatic  poetry,  whose  object  is  to  give  a  distinct 
and  lively  representation  of  an  action,  always  requires 
decorations,  however  splendid  or  paltry  they  may 
be  ;  and  an  assembly,  before  which  the  representation 
may  be  made.  Dramatic  poetry  "is  therefore  essen- 
tially more  public  than  that  of  any  other  description. 
Of  all  kinds  of  verse,  this  concerns  the  state  the  most 

*See  in  particular  the  whole  oration  of  Demosthenes  against  Midias,  who 
bad  abused  Demosthenes  as  choragus,  or  leader  of  the  chorus. 

t  See  the  Hymn,  in  Apoll.  v.  147,  &c.  respecting  the  choruses  at  the  Io- 
nian festivals  in  Delos. 


POETRY  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.          323 

nearly.  Among  the  Greeks  we  may  add,  that  it  was 
an  affair  of  religion,  and  therefore  an  essential  part  of 
their  festivals.  But  these  festivals  were  entirely  an 
affair  of  the  state  ;  they  belonged,  as  has  been  observ- 
ed above,  to  the  most  urgent  political  wants.  Here 
then  we  find  a  reason  why  the  state  should  not  only 
have  so  much  encouraged  dramatic  exhibitions,  but 
have  even  considered  them  no  less  essential  than  the 
popular  assemblies  and  popular  tribunals.  A  Grecian 
state  could  not  exist  without  festivals,  nor  festivals 
without  choruses  and  plays. 

In  what  manner  the  state  encouraged  the  drama, 
we  know  only  with  respect  to  Athens.  But  that  the 
other  Grecian  cities  in  the  mother  country,  and  also 
in  the  colonies,  had  their  theatres  no  less  than  Athens, 
is  apparent  from  the  remains  of  them,  which  are 
almost  always  to  be  found  wherever  there  are  traces 
of  a  Grecian  city.  The  theatres  were  built  and  deco- 
rated at  the  public  expense  ;  we  find  in  Grecian  cities 
no  instance,  as  far  as  my  knowledge  extends,  where 
private  persons  erected  them,  as  was  usual  in  Rome. 
Their  structure  was  always  the  same,  such  as  may 
still  be  seen  in  Herculaneum  ;  and  we  must  therefore 
infer,  that  all  the  external  means  of  representation 
remained  the  same ;  although  the  wealth  and  taste  of 
individual  cities  introduced  higher  degrees  of  splen- 
dor ;  which  in  our  times  we  may  observe  in  our  larger 
cities,  compared  with  the  smaller  or  provincial  towns. 
But  from  the  remains  of  the  Grecian  theatres,  the  size 
and  extent  of  these  buildings  are  apparent,  and  their 
great  dissimilarity  in  this  respect  to  modern  ones. 
If  they  had  not  been  regarded  as  a  real  want,  and  if 
the  emulation  of  the  cities  had  not  also  exerted  its 


324  CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 

influence,  we  might  doubt'  whether  sufficient  means 
could  have  been  found  for  erecting  them. 

The  bringing  forward  of  the  single  plays  belonged 
to  the  civil  burdens  (AftTot/ppaeu),  which  the  opulent 
were  obliged  to  bear  in  rotation,  or  which  they 
voluntarily  assumed.  We  can  hardly  doubt,  that 
these  regulations  in  other  cities  resembled  those 
in  Athens,  though  on  this  subject  we  have  no  distinct 
testimony.  Thus  the  state  threw  these  expenses  in 
part  upon  private  persons;  but  the  matter  was  not 
the  less  a  public  concern,  for  this  expense  was  consid- 
ered as  a  contribution  due  to  the  state.  But  another 
regulation  may  astonish  us  still  more  than  this ;  the 
regulation  by  which  money  was  granted  from  the 
public  treasury  to  the  poorer  citizens,  that  they  might 
be  able  to  visit  the  theatres.  This  was  the  case  in 
Athens,  though  not  till  the  times  in  which  the  state 
began  to  sink  under  the  moral  corruption  of  its  citizens. 
The  desire  of  pleasure  may  in  such  periods  degenerate 
into  a  sort  of  phrenzy  ;  and  the  preservation  of  tran- 
quillity may  demand  sacrifices,  which  are  reluctantly 
made  even  by  those  who  consent. 

Though  the  oldest  dramatic  essays  among  the  Greeks 
may  be  of  a  more  remote  age,  there  is  no  doubt  that  J&s- 
chylus  was  the  father,  not  only  of  the  finished  drama, 
but  also  of  the  Grecian  stage.  It  was  not,  therefore,  till 
after  the  victories  over  the  Persians  (he  himself  fought 
in  the  battle  of  Salamis)  that  a  theatre  of  stone  was 
erected  in  Athens  ;*  and  all  that  concerns  the  drama 
began  to  be  developed  in  that  city.  The  contests  of 
the  poets,  which  were  introduced  there  at  the  festi- 

*  The  occasion  is  related  by  Suidas  in  Uf»r!,ct;.  At  the  representation 
of  a  play  of  jEschylus,  the  wooden  scaffold,  on  which  the  spectators  stood, 
gave  way. 


POETRY  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.    325 

vals  of  Bacchus,  and  which,  though  they  cost  the 
state  only  a  crown,  rewarded  the  poet  more  than  gold 
could  have  done,  contributed  much  to  excite  emula- 
tion. It  was  about  this  time  that  Athens  began  to 
be  the  seat  of  literature,  and  in  the  scale  of  political 
importance,  the  first  state  in  Greece.  Hence  we  can 
explain  the  remarkable  fact,  that  the  dramatic  art 
seemed  in  that  city  as  at  home.  Athens  directed  the 
taste  of  the  other  cities  ;  and  without  being  the  cap- 
ital in  the  same  degree  as  Paris  and  London,  her 
great  superiority  in  intellectual  culture  secured  to  her 
that  supremacy,  which  was  the  more  glorious,  as  it 
rested  not  on  violence,  but  on  the  voluntary  concession 
of  her  preeminence. 

I  am  acquainted  with  no  investigation  on  the 
question,  in  what  manner,  after  the  erection  of  a 
stage  at  Athens,  theatrical  amusements  were  extended 
throughout  the  other  Grecian  cities.  The  ruins 
which  remain  in  them,  leave  it  still  uncertain,  when 
they  were  built;  and  where  can  we  find  dates  to 
settle  this  point?  But  so  many  vestiges  make  it 
highly  probable,  that  the  drama  was  introduced  into 
the  other  cities  before  the  Macedonian  age.  Neither 
tragic  nor  comic  poets  were  at  home  in  Athens  exclu- 
sively ;  but  started  up  in  the  most  various  regions  of 
the  Grecian  world.*  Athenian  poets  were  invited  to 
resort  to  the  courts  of  foreign  princes.f  A  king  of 
Syracuse  was  himself  a  tragic  poet.!  I*1  the  same 

*  Abundant  proof  may  be  found  in  Fabricii  Bibl.  Gr.  T.  i.  in  the  Catalog. 
Tragicorum  and  Comicorum  deperditorum. 

t  Euripides  was  invited  to  repair  to  the  court  of  Archelaus,  king  of  Mace- 
donia. 

t  Dionysius  the  elder.  A  fragment  of  his  has  been  preserved  in  Stob. 
Eclog.  i.  iv.  19. 


326  CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 

city,  Athenian  captives  regained  their  liberty  by 
fragments  from  the  tragedies  of  Euripides.  The 
inhabitants  of  Abdera,  when  their  fellow-citizen  Ar- 
chelaus  played  the  part  of  Andromeda,  were  seized 
with  a  theatric  passion  bordering  on  madness.*  Oth- 
er proofs,  if  necessary,  might  be  found.  It  may 
seem  doubtful,  whether  the  same  may  be  said  of  the 
comic  drama  ;  which  in  Athens  was  of  so  local  a 
character,  that  it  could  hardly  have  been  understood 
in  the  other  cities ;  or  at  least  much  of  its  wit  must 
have  been  lost.  But  is  it  safe  from  the  few  remain- 
ing pieces  of  a  single  comic  poet  to  judge  of  the  hun- 
dreds produced  by  a  multitude  of  others,  and  no 
longer  extant  ? 

To  answer  the  other  question :  In  what  relation 
the  theatre  among  the  Greeks,  from  its  very  nature, 
stood  to  the  state,  we  must  distinguish  its  two  chief 
divisions.  Before  the  Macedonian  age,  while  come- 
dy was  still  permitted  to  preserve  its  republican  char- 
acter,! tragedy  and  comedy,  as  there  were  no  inter- 
mediate kinds.J  remained  as  different  from  each 
other,  as  seriousness  and  mirth.  They  had  no  points 
of  contact. 

Tragedy,  introducing  upon  the  stage  the  heroes 
of  Greece,  was  the  representation  of  great  events  of 
the  elder  days,  according  to  the  ideal  conceptions  of 
the  Greeks  ;^  comedy,  on  the  contrary,  was  the  par- 

*Lncian.  de  conscrib.  histor.  Op.  iv.  p.  159,  Bip. 

t  The  old  comedy,  as  it  was  called. 

\  The  satyric  drama,  as  it  was  called,  was  not  an  intermediate  class,  but 
a  corruption  of  tragedy. 

§  Two  plays,  the  Persians  of  /Eschylus,  and  the  Destruction  of  Miletus  of 
Fhrynichus  formed  exceptions.  But  they  had  no  imitators ;  and  the 
last  mentioned  poet  was  even  punished  for  it  by  the  Athenians.  Herod,  vi. 


POETRY  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.   327 

ody  of  the  present ;  as  we  shall  hereafter  illustrate 
more  fully.  In  these  explanations,  the  whole  differ- 
ence of  the  two  has  been  expressed. 

Tragedy  was  in  certain  respects  a  result  of  epic 
poetry.  For  this  had  always  preserved  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  heroic  age  ;  without  which  the  tragic  poets 
would  have  had  to  contend  with  no  less  difficulties, 
than  the  moderns,  when  they  have  borrowed  subjects 
from  the  fables  of  the  North.  It  was  only  necessary  to 
mention  the  name  of  the  chief  person,  and  the  whole 
story  of  his  adventures  was  recalled  to  every  mind. 
Hence  the  artificial  weaving  of  a  plot,  was  only  so 
far  a  duty  of  the  poet,  as  the  nature  of  the  drama  re- 
quires ;  grandeur  and  liveliness  of  manner  were  on 
the  contrary  far  more  in  the  spirit  of  the  heroic  world. 
Not  the  event,  but  the  character  of  the  action,  was 
important.  Whether  the  issue  was  fortunate  or  un- 
fortunate, was  a  matter  of  indifference ;  but  it  was 
necessary  that  the  action  should  be  in  itself  sublime ; 
should  be  the  result  of  the  play  of  the  passions  ;  and 
should  never  depart  from  the  gravity,  which  is  as  it 
were  the  colouring  of  the  world  of  heroes.  In  this 
consists  the  tragic  part  of  the  drama.  But  though 
the  final  event  was  in  itself  indifferent,  it  was  natural 
for  the  poets  to  prefer  subjects,  in  which  it  was  un- 
fortunate for  the  chief  personages.  In  such  the  tragic 

21.  Here  too  we  observe  the  correct  judgment  of  the  nation,  which  desired, 
in  the  tragic  drama,  an  excitement  of  the  passions  ;  but  purely  of  the  pas- 
sions, without  any  personal  allusions.  This  was  possible  only  in  subjects 
taken  from  early  times.  But  still  a  certain  regard  for  historic  truth,  as 
contained  in  the  traditions,  was  required  by  the  Grecian  taste.  Subjects  al- 
together fictitious  were  unknown.  The  consequences  of  this  deserve  to  be 
illustrated  at  large.  If  the  tragic  drama  was  thus  limited  to  the  traditions 
respecting  the  heroes,  it  at  the  same  time  obtained  a  certain  solemn  support 
which  gave  it  dignity. 


328  CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 

interest  was  the  greatest ;  the  catastrophe  the  most 
tremendous ;  the  effect  least  uncertain.  A  tragic 
issue  suited  best  the  whole  character  of  the  kind  of 
poetry. 

The  tragic  drama  could  have  but  few  points  of 
relation  with  the  state.  The  political  world  which 
was  here  exhibited,  was  entirely  different  from  the 
actual  one  of  the  times  ;  the  forms  of  monarchy  alone 
were  introduced  on  the  stage.  The  same  remark, 
therefore,  which  has  been  made  respecting  the  epic,* 
is  true  also  of  the  tragic  poetry  of  the  Greeks.  The 
violent  commotions  in  the  ancient  royal  families  and 
their  extinction,  were  not  represented  to  make  them 
objects  of  contempt  or  hatred,  and  to  quicken  the 
spirit  of  republicanism  ;  but  solely  because  no  other 
actions  equally  possessed  the  sublimity  of  the  tragic 
character.  But  the  moral  effects  which  were  produc- 
ed by  these  representations,  may  have  been  political- 
ly important.  Whilst  the  Grecian  continued  to  live 
in  the  heroic  world,  that  elevation  of  mind  could  not 
so  well  disappear,  which  is  seen  so  frequently  in 
the  acts  of  the  nation.  If  Homer  and  the  epic 
poets  first  raised  its  spirit  to  the  sublimity  belong- 
ing to  it,  the  tragic  poets  did  much  to  preserve 
that  elevated  tone.  And  if  this  elevated  spirit  form- 
ed the  strength  of  the  state,  they  have  as  strong  a 
claim  to  immortality,  as  the  military  commanders  and 
the  leaders  of  the  people. 

Comedy  was  more  closely  allied  to  the  state ;  as 
we  may  presuppose  from  the  circumstance,  that  it  had 
relation  to  the  present  and  not  to  the  past.  We  have 

*  See  above,  p.  122. 


POETRY  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.    329 

explained  it  above  to  be  the  parody  of  the  present  ;* 
that  is  of  the  contemporary  public  condition,  in  the 
sense  in  which  the  Greeks  understand  this  expression. 
Private  life,  as  such,  was  never  the  subject  of  comedy, 
except  so  far  as  it  was  connected  with  the  public. 
But  these  points  of  contact  were  so  many  and  so  vari- 
ous, that  the  comic  poet  could  not  but  frequently 
present  views  of  private  life.  The  relation  of  come- 
dy was  therefore  altogether  political,  so  far  as  we 
comprehend  every  thing  public  under  this  word.  But 
the  scenes  which  were  exhibited,  were  not  represent- 
ed with  fidelity,  but  were  caricatured.  This  seems 
to  have  been  agreed  upon  by  a  silent  convention  ;  and 
therefore  such  representations  could  not  injure  those 
against  whom  they  were  directed,  much  more  than 
the  caricature  prints  of  our  times.  We  would  not  be 
understood  to  justify  unconditionally  the  incredible 
impudence  of  the  Grecian  comic  poets,  in  whose  eyes 
neither  men,  nor  morals,  nor  the  gods  were  sacred. 
But  a  public  tribunal  of  character  is  an  actual  necessi- 
ty, where  a  popular  government  exists ;  and  in  those 
times  what  other  such  tribunal  could  have  existed 
than  the  theatre  ?  Whatever  excited  public  atten- 
tion, whether  in  persons  or  in  things,  it  might  be 
expected,  would  be  brought  upon  the  stage.  The 
most  powerful  demagogue,  in  the  height  of  his  power, 

*  A.  W.  Schlegel,  in  his  work  on  Dramatic  Literature  and  Art,  i.  p.  271,  con- 
siders the  characteristic  of  comedy  to  have  been,  that  it  was  a  parody  of 
tragedy.  It  certainly  was  so  very  frequently,  and  thus  far  his  remark  is 
correct.  Tragedy  was  a  part  of  the  public  life  ;  the  parody  of  tragedy  was 
therefore  a  fit  subject  for  the  comic  stage ;  and  the  relation  between  the 
tragic  and  comic  poets  was  such,  that  the  latter  were  naturally  fond  of  ridi- 
culing the  former.  The  readers  of  Aristophanes  know  this.  Yet  we  must 
be  very  careful  how  we  confine  the  range  of  comedy  to  this. 

42 


330  CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 

did  not  escape  this  fate ;  nay,  the  people  of  Athens 
itself  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  itself  personified, 
and  brought  upon  the  stage,  where  it  could  laugh 
at  itself,  till  it  was  satisfied  with  mirth  ;*  and — 
cro\vned  the  poet  for  having  done  it.  What  is  our 
freedom  of  the  press,  our  licentiousness  of  the  press 
compared  with  this  dramatic  freedom  and  licentious- 
ness? 

But  though  the  ridicule  of  the  comic  poets  could  not 
much  injure  the  indixidual  against  whom  it  chanced 
to  be  directed,  the  question  is  still  by  no  means 
answered,  What  consequences  had  the  comic  drama 
for  the  state,  and  for  morals,  which  with  the  Greeks 
were  inseparably  connected  with  state?  Those 
judgments  passed  on  public  characters  may  have  had 
some  influence,  but  not  a  great  deal  ;  unless  perhaps 
to  make  men  more  cautious ;  and  this  was  no  small 
consideration.  When  we  see  that  Pericles,  notwith- 
standing all  the  attacks  of  the  comic  poets,f  was  not 
to  be  deposed,  and  that  even  Cleon,  when  he  had  been 
made  a  public  jest  in  the  person  of  the  Paphlagonian, 
lost  nothing  of  his  influence,  we  cannot  make  a  very 
high  estimate  of  that  advantage.  So  far  as  morals 
are  concerned,  it  is  true,  that  the  ideas  of  propriety 
are  conventional ;  and  that  it  would  be  wrong  to  infer 
from  a  violation  of  them  in  language,  a  corresponding 
violation  in  action.  The  inhabitant  of  the  North, 
who  has  not  grown  accustomed  to  the  much  greater 
license  given  to  the  tongue  by  the  southern  nations, 
may  here  easily  be  mistaken.  The  jokes  of  Harlequin, 
especially  in  his  extemporaneous  performances,  are 

*  As  in  the  Knights  of  Aristophanes. 

t  Specimens  of  them  may  be  seen  in  Plutarch.    Op.  i.  p.  620. 


POETRY  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.         331 

often  hardly  less  indecent  than  those  of  Aristophanes  ; 
and  the  southern  countries  are  not  on  that  account 
on  the  whole  more  corrupt  than  the  northern,  although 
some  offences  are  more  common  in  the  former.  But 
the  incredible  levity,  with  which  the  rules  of  modesty 
were  transgressed,  could  not  remain  without  conse- 
quences. Another  important  point  is  the  influence 
of  comedy  on  the  religion  of  the  people.  The  comic 
poets  were  careful  never  to  appear  as  atheists  ;  that 
would  have  led  to  exile  ;  they  rather  defended  the 
popular  religion.  But  the  manner  in  which  this 
was  done,  was  often  worse  than  a  direct  attack.  Who 
could  appear  with  reverent  devotion  at  the  altar  of 
Jove,  after  growing  weary  with  laughing  at  him  in 
the  Clouds,  or  after  having  seen  him  pay  court  to 
earthly  beauties.  Even  on  the  minds  of  the  most 
frivolous  nation  in  the  world,  indelible  impressions 
must  have  been  made. 

The  ancient  comedy  has  commonly  been  called  a 
political  farce  ;  and  the  expression  is  just,  if  we  inter- 
pret the  word  political  in  the  wide  sense  in  which 
we  have  explained  it.  It  is  sufficiently  known,  that, 
after  the  downfall  of  the  popular  rule,  there  was  no 
longer  any  field  for  this  ancient  comedy,  that  it  lost 
its  sting  in  the  middle  comedy  as  it  is  termed,  and 
that  the  new  was  of  an  entirely  different  character.* 
As  this  new  kind  lost  its  local  character  with  the 
personal  allusions,  the  old  obstacles  to  its  diffusion 
throughout  the  Grecian  world  no  longer  existed. 
And  though  we  may  doubt  whether  the  plays  of 
Cratinus  and  Aristophanes  were  ever  acted  out  of 

*The  difference  of  these  kinds  is  best  explained  in  the  excellent  vrorl$  of 
l,  i.  p.  326. 


332  CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 

Athens,  no  question  can  certainly  be  raised  with 
respect  to  those  of  Menander  and  Diphilus.  But  as 
this  new  species  of  theatrical  composition  was  not 
introduced  and  perfected  till  the  Macedonian  age, 
the  subject  does  not  fall  within  the  sphere  of  our 
observations. 

With  our  notions  we  should  think  the  connexion  of 
the  arts  with  politics  much  less  than  that  of  the  theatre; 
and  yet  it  was  among  the  Greeks  even  closer  and  more 
various.  The  encouragement  of  the  arts  is  in  our  times 
left  chiefly  to  private  taste  ;  and  is  greater  or  smaller 
according  to  the  number  of  amateurs.  The  state  takes 
an  interest  in  them  only  to  prevent  their  total  decay, 
or  for  the  sake  of  some  particular  design. 

The  case  was  entirely  different  in  the  period 
when  they  flourished  among  the  Greeks.  The  arts 
with  them  were  exclusively  public,  and  not  at  all  an 
affair  of  individuals.  They  afterwards  became  so  to 
a  certain  extent ;  but  yet  never  in  the  same  degree  as 
with  us ;  nor  even  as  with  the  Romans.  These  po- 
sitions require  to  be  further  developed  and  more 
accurately  proved. 

By  the  arts  we  mean  the  three  great  branches 
of  them,  architecture,  sculpture,  and  painting.  On 
each  of  these  we  have  some  remarks  to  offer. 

Architecture  is  distinguished  from  the  two  others 
by  the  circumstance,  that  its  object  is  use  no  less  than 
beauty.  Not  only  the  moderns,  but  the  Romans  of  the 
later  ages,  endeavoured  to  unite  them  both ;  and  in 
this  manner  private  buildings  became  objects  of  the 
art.  Among  the  Greeks,  a  tendency  to  this  seems 
to  have  existed  in  the  heroic  age.  In  a  former  chap- 
ter, we  remarked  that  in  the  dwellings  and  halls  of 


THE  ARTS  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.      333 

the  kings,  there  prevailed  a  certain  grandeur  and 
splendor,  which,  however,  we  shall  hardly  be  willing 
to  designate  by  the  name  of  scientific  architecture. 
When  the  monarchical  forms  disappeared,  and  living 
in  cities,  and  with  it  republican  equality,  gained  ground, 
those  differences  in  the  dwellings  disappeared  of 
themselves  ;  and  every  thing  which  we  read  respect- 
ing private  houses  in  every  subsequent  age,  confirms 
us  in  the  idea,  that  they  could  make  no  pretensions  to 
elegance  of  construction.*  It  would  be  difficult  to 
produce  a  single  example  of  such  a  building.  But 
we  find  express  evidence  to  the  contrary.  Athens 
was  by  no  means  a  fine  city  like  some  of  our  modern 
ones,  in  which  there  are  whole  streets  of  palaces 
occupied  as  the  dwellings  of  private  persons.  A 
stranger  could  have  been  in  Athens  without  imagin- 
ing himself  to  be  in  the  city  which  contained  the 
greatest  masterpieces  of  architecture.  The  splendor 
of  the  city  was  not  perceived  till  the  public  squares 
and  the  Acropolis  were  approached. f  The  small  dwel- 
lings of  Themistocles  and  of  Aristides  were  long 
pointed  out ;  and  the  building  of  large  houses  was 
regarded  as  a  proof  of  pride.J  But  when  luxury 
increased,  the  houses  were  built  on  a  larger  scale  ; 
several  chambers  for  the  accommodation  of  strangers 
and  for  other  purposes  were  built  round  the  court, 
which  commonly  formed  the  centre  ;  but  all  this  might 
take  place,  and  yet  the  building  could  lay  no  claims 

*It  follows  of  course,  that  the  testimony  of  writers  of  the  Macedonian, 
or  the  Roman  age,  are  not  here  taken  into  consideration,  since  we  are  not 
treating  of  those  times. 

t  Dicaearchus  de  Statu  Graeciae.  cap.  8.  Huds. 

t  Demosthenes  reproaches  the  wealthy  Midias  with  his  large  house  at 
Eleusis,  which  intercepted  the  light  of  others.  Op.  i.  p.  565. 


334  CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 

to  beauty.  If  a  town,  which  was,  it  is  true,  but  a 
provincial  town,  may  be  cited  to  corroborate  this,  we 
have  one  still  before  our  eyes.  A  walk  through  the 
excavated  streets  of  Pompeii,  will  be  sufficient  to  es- 
tablish our  remark.  Where  the  pomp  and  splendor 
of  the  public  edifices  were  so  great  as  among  the 
Greeks,  it  was  not  possible  for  private  buildings  to 
rival  them. 

Architecture,  as  applied  to  public  purposes,  began 
with  the  construction  of  temples ;  and  till  the  time 
of  the  Persian  wars  or  just  before,  we  hear  of  no  other 
considerable  public  edifices.  The  number  of  temples 
remarkable  for  their  architecture,  was  till  that  time  a 
limited  one  ;  although,  in  the  age  just  preceding  the 
war  with  Persia,  this  art  had  already  produced  some 
of  its  first  works  among  the  Greeks.  In  Greece  itself 
the  temple  of  Delphi  was  the  most  celebrated,  after 
it  had  been  rebuilt  by  the  Alcmseonidae.*  There  was 
also  the  temple  of  Apollo  in  Delos.  But  it  was  about 
this  time,  that  the  invention  of  the  Ionic  order  by  the 
Asiatic  Greeks  in  addition  to  the  Doric,  which  had  been, 
used  till  then,  constituted  a  new  epoch  in  the  history  of 
architecture.  The  splendid  temple  of  Diana  at  Ephesus 
erected  by  the  joint  exertions  of  the  cities  and  princes 
of  Grecian  Asia,  was  the  first  building  in  this  new 
style.f  About  the  same  time  Polycrates  built  the 
temple  of  Juno  in  Samos.  The  temples  which  after- 
wards formed  the  glory  of  Greece,  those  of  Athens  on 
the  Acropolis  and  elsewhere,  were  all  erected  after 
the  Persian  war.  So  too  was  the  temple  of  Jupiter 

*  Herod,  v.  62. 

t  See  the  instructive  disquisition  :  DerTempel  der  Diana  zu  Ephesus,  von 
A.  Hirt.   Berlin,  1809. 


THE  ARTS  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.       335 

at  Olympia.  As  to  the  temples  in  Lower  Italy  and 
Sicily,  we  can  fix  the  epoch  in  which,  if  not  all,  yet  the 
largest  and  most  splendid  of  them,  the  chief  temples 
of  Agrigentutn,  were  erected  ;  and  that  epoch  is  also 
subsequent  to  the  Persian  war.*  And  if  those  of  the 
ancient  Doric  order,  at  Psestum  and  Segestus,  belong 
to  an  earlier  period,  they  cannot  to  one  much  earlier ; 
as  these  cities  themselves  were  founded  so  much  later 
than  those  in  Asia  Minor.  Just  before  and  after  the 
Persian  war,  arose  that  prodigious  emulation  of  the 
cities,  to  make  themselves  famous  for  their  temples; 
and  this  produced  those  masterpieces  of  architecture. 
The  other  principal  kinds  of  public  buildings, 
which  were  conspicuous  for  their  splendor,  were 
the  theatres,  the  places  for  musical  exhibitions,  the 
porticos,  and  the  gymnasia.  Of  the  theatres,  it  has 
already  been  observed,  that  they  were  erected  subse- 
quently to  the  Persian  wars.  The  same  is  true 
of  the  halls  for  music.  The  porticos,  those  fa- 
vourite places  of  resort  to  a  people  who  lived  so 
much  in  public,  belonged  in  part  to  the  temples,  f 
and  in  part  surrounded  the  public  squares.  Of  those 
in  Athens,  which  by  their  works  of  art  eventually 
eclipsed  the  rest,  we  know  that  they  were  not  built 
till  after  the  victory  over  the  barbarians.  Of  all  the 
public  edifices,  the  gymnasia  are  those  respecting 
which  we  have  the  fewest  accounts-!  They  were 

*  A  more  accurate  enumeration  of  the  chief  temples  of  the  Greeks,  and 
the  periods  in  which  they  were  built,  is  to  be  found  in  Stieglitz,  Geschichte 
der  Baukunst  der  Alten.  Leipzig,  1792. 

t  As  e.  g.  the  \if%n  at  Olympia,  respecting  which  Bottiger  in  his  Geschich- 
te der  Mahlerey,  B.  i.  S.  296,  etc.  has  given  us  a  learned  essay,  as  also  in 
general  respecting  those  places,  to  which  the  public  resorted  for  conversa- 
tion. 

t  On  those  at  Athens,  consult  Stieglitz  in  loc.  cit.p.220. 


336  CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 

probably  erected  at  a  distance  in  the  rear  of  the 
temples ;  though  many  of  them  were  distinguished 
by  excellent  works  of  art. 

This  line  of  division,  carefully  drawn  between 
domestic  and  public  architecture  by  the  Greeks,  who 
regarded  only  the  latter  as  possessing  the  rank  of 
one  of  the  fine  arts,  gives  a  new  proof  of  their  correct 
views  of  things.  In  buildings  destined  for  dwellings, 
necessity  and  the  art  are  in  constant  opposition.  The 
latter  desires  in  its  works  to  execute  some  grand  idea 
independent  of  the  common  wants  of  life  ;  but  a  dwel- 
ling is  intended  to  meet  those  very  wants,  and  is  in 
no  respect  founded  on  an  idea  connected  with  beauty. 
The  temples  are  dwellings  also,  but  the  dwellings  of 
the  gods  ;  and  as  these  have  no  wants  in  their  places 
of  abode,  the  art  finds  here  no  obstacle  to  its  inven- 
tions. 

The  plastic  art*  and  painting  bore  to  each  other, 
among  the  Greeks,  the  opposite  relation  to  that  which 
they  have  borne  in  modern  times.  The  first  was  the 
most  cultivated  ;  and  though  the  latter  attained  the 
rank  of  an  independent  art,  it  never  was  able  to 
gain  the  superiority.  It  is  not  for  us  here  to  explain 
the  causes  of  this:  we  need  only  mention  one,  which 
to  us  is  the  most  interesting.  The  more  public  the 
arts  are  among  any  people,  the  more  naturally  will 
the  plastic  art  surpass  that  of  painting.  The  works 
of  both  may  be  public,  and  were  so  among  the  Greeks, 
but  those  of  the  former  are  far  better  suited  for 
public  monuments  than  those  of  the  latter.  The 
works  of  painting  find  their  place  only  on  walls  5  those 

*The  phrase  plastic  art  is  used,  because  there  is  no  other  which  embraces 
at  once  the  works  of  art  formed  of  stone  and  of  bronze. 


THE  ARTS  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.      337 

of  the  plastic  art,  existing  entirely  by  themselves, 
wherever  there  is  room  for  them. 

The  works  of  the  plastic  art,  statues  and  busts, 
were,  in  the  times  of  which  we  speak  (and  among  the 
Greeks,  with  a  few  limitations,  even  in  subsequent 
times),  only  public  works,  that  is,  designed  to  be  set 
up,  not  in  private  dwellings,  but  in  public  places, 
temples,  halls,  market-places,  gymnasia,  and  theatres. 
I  know  of  no  one  instance  of  a  statue  that  belonged 
to  a  private  man  ;  and  if  there  exists  any  example, 
it  is  an  exception  which  confirms  the  general  rule.* 
It  may  be  said,  that  it  is  only  accidental  that  we  know 
of  no  such  instances.  But  if  any  taste  of  that  kind 
had  prevailed  at  Athens,  we  should  find  traces  of  it 
in  the  comedians  and  orators.  If  these  are  consulted 
in  vain  for  such  indications,  we  are  justified  in  con- 
cluding that  no  such  private  tastes  existed. 

Phidias  and  his  successors,  till  the  Macedonian 
age,  did  not  therefore  labour  to  supply  with  their  works 
the  houses  and  collections  of  individuals.  This  by  no 
means  implies,  that  they  did  not  receive  applications 
from  private  persons.  If  they  had  not,  the  incredi- 
ble multitude  of  statues,  which  we  have  already  men- 
tioned, could  never  have  been  made.f  This  subject  is 
so  important,  that  we  desire  to  treat  of  it  more  at 
large. 

*0r  can  the  anecdote  be  cited,  which  Pausanias  relates,  p.  i.  46,  of  the 
cunning  of  Phryne  to  gain  possession  of  the  god  of  love  made  by  her  lover 
Praxiteles  ?  Even  if  it  be  true,  the  fact  is  in  our  favour ;  for  she  consecrat- 
ed it  immediately  as  a  public  work  of  art  in  Thespia?,  Athen.  p.  591  ;  in 
which  city  alone  it  was  from  that  time  to  be  seen.  Cic.  in  Ver.  ii.  iv.  2. 

fThe  infinite  wealth  of  Greece  in  treasures  of  this  kind,  has  been  so  clearly 
exhibited  in  a  late  discovery  of  Jacobs,  that  it  has  now  become  easy  to  form 
a  distinct  idea  of  them.  Jacobs,  Uber  den  Reichthum  Griechenlands  an 
plastischen  Kunstwerken  und  die  Ursachen  desselben. 

43 


338  CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 

The  great  masters  were  principally  employed  for 
the  cities.  These,  or  the  men  who  were  at  their  head 
(as  the  example  of  Pericles  informs  us),  bespoke 
works  of  art,  or  hought  them  ready  made,  to  orna- 
ment the  city  and  the  public  buildings.  We  have 
distinct  evidence,  that  the  great  masterpieces  of  Phid- 
ias, Praxiteles,  and  Lysippus,  owed  their  origin  to 
this.  Thus  were  produced  the  Jupiter  at  Olyinpia, 
the  Minerva  Polias  at  Athens,  by  the  first ;  the  Venus 
at  Cnidus,  as  well  as  at  Cos,  by  the  second ;  the 
Colossus  of  Rhodes,  by  the  third.  Yet  numerous  as 
were  the  applications  of  cities,  the  immense  multitude 
of  statues  could  not  be  accounted  for,  unless  the  piety 
and  the  vanity  of  individuals  had  come  to  their  assis- 
tance. 

The  first  assisted  by  the  votive  offerings ;  of  which 
all  the  celebrated  temples  were  full.  These  were  by 
no  means  always  works  of  art,  but  quite  as  often  mere 
costly  presents.  Yet  the  collections  of  statues  and 
pictures  which  belonged  to  those  temples,  consisted, 
for  the  most  part,  of  votive  offerings.*  But  these 
were  as  often  the  tribute  of  gratitude  from  whole 
cities,  as  from  individuals.! 

The  vanity  of  individuals  contributed  to  the  same 
end,  by  the  custom  of  erecting  statues,  commonly  of 
bronze,  to  the  victors  in  the  games.J  When  we 

*Not  to  mention  Olympia  and  Delphi  again,  we  refer  to  the  temple  of 
Juno  in  Sarnos,  Strab.  L.  xiv.  p.  438,  of  Bacchus  at  Athens,  Paus.  i.  20.  The 
temple  of  Diana  at  Ephesus  was  so  rich  in  works  of  art,  that  according  to 
Plin.  xxxvi.  14,  a  description  of  them  would  have  filled  several  volumes. 

tThe  temples  received  such  presents  not  only  during  the  lifetime  of  the 
donors,  but  as  legacies.  A  remarkable  instance  of  this  is  found  in  the  will 
of  Conon,  who  left  5000  pieces  of  gold  (fntrnps)  for  that  purpose.  Lys.  Or 
Gr.  v.  p.  639. 

\  See  the  passage  in  Pliny,  xxxiv.9.  His  remark  that  a  statue  was  erect- 
ed in  honour  of  every  victor  at  Olympia,  seems  hardly  credible.  Cf.  Pai:* 
vi.  p.  452. 


THE  ARTS  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.      339 

remember  the  multitude  of  these  games  in  Greece,  Jhe 
number  of  statues  will  become  intelligible  5  especially 
of  those  of  bronze,  of  which  in  many  instances  more 
than  one  cast  was  made ;  as  the  native  cities  of  the 
victors  would  hardly  fail  in  this  manner  to  appropri- 
ate to  themselves  the  fame  of  their  citizens,  which 
formed  so  much  a  subject  of  pride. 

Painting,  from  its  very  nature,  seems  to  have  been 
more  designed  for  private  use.  Yet  in  the  age  of 
Pericles,  when  the  great  masters  in  this  art  appeared 
in  Athens,  it  was  hardly  less  publicly  applied  than 
the  art  of  sculpture.  It  was  in  the  public  porticos  and 
temples,  that  those  masters,  Polygnotus,  Micon,  and 
others,  exhibited  the  productions  of  their  genius.* 
No  trace  is  to  be  found  of  celebrated  private  pictures 
in  those  times.  | 

Yet  portrait  painting  seems  peculiarly  to  belong 
to  private  life.  This  branch  of  the  art  was  certainly 
cultivated  among  the  Greeks  ;  but  not  till  the  Mace- 
donian age.  The  likenesses  of  celebrated  men  were 
placed  in  the  pictures  which  commemorated  their 
actions ;  as  that  of  Miltiades  in  the  painting  of  the 
battle  in  the  Pcecile,  or  pictured  hall  in  Athens  ;  or 
the  artists  found  a  place  for  themselves  or  their  mis- 

*  See  Bottiger.    Icleen  zur  Archaeologie  der  Mahlerey.    B.  i.  S.  274,  etc. 

I  It  is  true,  Andocides  reproached  Alcibiades,  in  his  oration  against  him,  of 
having  shut  up  a  painter,  who  was  painting  his  house;  Or.  Gr.  iv.  p.  119. 
But  this  was  not  the  way  to  obtain  a  fine  specimen  of  the  art.  Allusion  is 
there  made  to  the  painting  of  the  whole  house,  not  of  an  isolated  work  of 
art ;  and  we  are  not  disposed  to  deny,  that  in  the  times  of  Alcibiades,  it  was 
usual  to  decorate  the  walls  with  paintings.  On  the  contrary,  this  was  then 
very  common  ;  for  the  very  painter  Archagathus  gives  as  his  excuse,  that  he 
had  already  contracted  to  work  for  several  others.  But  these  common  paint- 
ings are  not  to  be  compared  with  those  in  the  temples  and  porticos;  which 
as  Bottiger  has  proved,  Ideen.  fcc.  S.  282.  were  painted,  not  on  the  walls, 
but  on  wood. 


340  CHAPTElt  FIFTEENTH. 

tresses  in  such  public  works.*  But,  properly  speak- 
ing, portrait  painting,  as  such,  did  not  flourish  till  the 
times  of  Philip  and  Alexander ;  and  was  first  prac- 
tised in  the  school  of  Apelles.f  When  powerful 
princes  arose,  curiosity  or  flattery  desired  to  possess 
their  likeness  ;  the  artists  were  most  sure  of  receiv- 
ing compensation  for  such  labours ;  and  private  stat- 
ues as  well  as  pictures  began  to  grow  common  ;  al- 
though in  most  cases  something  of  ideal  beauty  was 
added  to  the  resemhlance.J 

We  have  ventured  directly  to  assert,  that  the 
arts  in  their  flourishing  period  belonged  exclusively 
to  public  life  ;  and  were  not,  according  to  the  general 
opinion  which  seems  to  have  been  silently  adopted,  di- 
vided between  that  and  private  life.  Be  it  remembered, 
this  is  to  be  understood  only  of  works  of  art,  in  the 
proper  sense  of  the  expression ;  that  is,  of  those  which 
had  no  other  object  but  to  be  works  of  art ;  of  statues, 
therefore,  and  pictures  ;  not  of  all  kinds  of  sculpture 
and  painting.  That  the  arts  connected  with  private 
wants,  were  applied  to  objects  of  domestic  life,  to  articles 
of  household  furniture,  to  candelabra,  vases,  tapestry, 
and  garments,  will  be  denied  by  no  one,  who  is  ac- 
quainted with  antiquity. 

It  was  not  till  a  Lucullus,  a  Verres,  and  others 
among  the  Romans,  had  gratified  their  taste  as  ama- 

*  Polygnotus,  e.  g.  introduced  the  beautiful  Elpinice,  the  daughter  of 
Miltiades,  as  Laodice.  Plut.  Hi.  p.  178. 

\  This  appears  from  the  accounts  in  Plin.  xxxv.  xxxvi.  12,  etc. 

\  A  confirmation,  perhaps  a  more  correct  statement  of  these  remarks,  is 
expected  by  every  friend  of  the  arts  of  antiquity  in  the  continuation  of  Bot- 
tiger's  Ideen  zur  Geschichte  der  Mahlerey.  That  in  this  period  busts  of  in- 
dividuals became  for  the  same  reasons  so  much  more  numerous,  has  be.en 
illustrated  by  the  same  scholar  in  his  Andeutungen,  5.  183,  etc. 


THE  AKTS  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.   341 

teurs,  that  the  arts  were  introduced  into  private 
life  ;  and  yet  even  in  Rome  an  Agrippa  could  propose 
to  restore  to  the  public  all  the  treasures  of  the  arts, 
which  lay  buried  in  the  villas.  We  should  not  there- 
fore be  astonished,  if  under  such  circumstances  the 
ancient  destination  of  arts  among  the  Greeks  should 
have  been  changed,  and  they  should  have  so  far 
degenerated  as  to  become  the  means  of  gratifying 
the  luxury  of  individuals.  And  yet  this  never  took 
place.  This  can  be  proved  as  well  of  the  mother 
country,  as  of  the  richest  of  the  colonies. 

Pausanias  in  the  second  century  after  the  Chris- 
tian era,  travelled  through  all  Greece,  and  saw  and 
described  all  the  works  of  art  which  existed  there. 
And  yet  I  know  of  no  one  instance  in  all  Pausanias 
of  a  work  of  art  belonging  to  a  private  man ;  much 
less  of  whole  collections.  Every  thing  was  in  his 
day,  as  before,  public  in  the  temples,  porticos,  and 
squares.  If  private  persons  had  possessed  works 
of  art,  who  would  have  prevented  his  describing 
them? 

Verres  plundered  Sicily  of  its  treasures  in  the 
arts,  whenever  he  could  find  them ;  and  his  accusers 
will  hardly  be  suspected  of  having  concealed  any 
thing.  But  in  this  accusation,  with  one  single  excep- 
tion,* none  but  public  works  of  art  are  mentioned. 
What  shall  we  infer  from  this,  but  that  no  considera- 
ble productions  of  the  fine  arts  were  possessed  by 
private  persons  in  Sicily  ? 

"Namely,  the  four  statues  which  he  took  from  Heius.  Cic.  in  Verrem  ii. 
i,v.  2.  Yet  they  stood  in  a  chapel  (sacrarium),  and  were  therefore  in  a  cer- 
tain measure  public.  The  name  of  Heius  seems,  however,  to  betray  that  the 
family  was  not  of  Grecian  origin.  But  what  does  one  such  exception,  and 
in  such  an  age,  prove  respecting  an  earlier  period  ? 


342  CUAPTEH  FIFTEENTH. 

So  deeply  therefore  was  the  idea  fixed  among  the 
Greeks,  that  the  works  of  the  artists  were  public, 
that  it  could  not  be  eradicated  even  by  the  profana- 
tions of  the  Romans.  And  this  is  the  chief  cause  of 
their  flourishing.  They  thus  attained  their  destina- 
tion. The  works  of  art  belong,  according  to  this,  not 
to  individuals,  but  to  the  cultivated  part  of  mankind. 
They  should  be  a  common  property.  Even  in  our 
times,  when  individuals  are  permitted  to  possess  them, 
censure  is  incurred  if  others  are  not  also  allowed  to 
enjoy  them.  But  even  where  this  privilege  is  con- 
ceded, it  is  not  a  matter  of  indifference,  whether  an 
individual  or  the  nation  is  the  possessor.  The  res- 
pect shown  to  the  arts  by  the  nation  in  possessing 
their  productions,  confers  a  higher  value  on  their 
labours.  How  much  more  honoured  does  the  artist 
feel,  how  much  niore  freely  does  he  breathe,  when 
lie  knows  that  he  is  exerting  himself  for  a  nation, 
which  will  esteem  its  glory  increased  by  his  works, 
instead  of  toiling  for  the  money  and  the  caprices  of 
individuals  ? 

Such  was  the  condition  of  the  arts  in  Greece. 
When  emulation  arose  among  the  cities  to  be  dis- 
tinguished by  possessing  works  of  art,  a  field  was 
opened  for  a  Phidias  and  Polygnotus,  for  a  Praxiteles 
and  Parrhasius.  They  were  better  rewarded  by 
glory  than  by  money ;  some  of  them  never  worked 
for  pay.*  Need  we  then  add  any  further  remarks 

*  Polygnotus  painted  the  Pcecile  for  nothing  ;  Zeuxis,  in  the  last  part  of 
his  life,  would  receive  no  pay  for  his  pictures,  but  gave  them  away.  Plin. 
xxxv.  36.  Thus  a  partial  answer  is  given  to  the  question,  how  the  cities 
could  support  the  great  expense  for  works  of  art.  Besides,  in  Greece  as  in 
Italy,  the  works  of  the  great  masters  did  not  become  dear  till  after  their 
death.  The  little  which  we  know  of  their  personal  condition  and  circum- 
stances, represents  them  for  the  most  part  as  men  of  fine  feelings  and  good 


THE  ARTS  IN  CONNEXION  WITH  THE  STATE.   343 

to  explain  why  the  blossoms  of  the  fine  arts  faded 
with  liberty  ?  Philip  and  Alexander  still  saw  a 
Lysippus  and  an  Apelles ;  but  with  them  ends  the 
series  of  creative  minds,  such  as  no  other  nation  has 
ever  produced. 

But  the  taste  of  the  nation  for  the  arts  and  their 
productions,  did  not  end  with  those  artists.  They 
had  taken  too  good  care  to  perpetuate  that  fondness. 
When  the  Grecians  had  lost  almost  every  thing  else, 
they  were  still  proud  of  their  works  of  art.  This 
excited  even  in  the  Romans  respect  and  admiration. 
"  These  works  of  art,  these  statues,  these  pictures," 
aays  Cicero,*  "delight  the  Greeks  beyond  every 
thing.  From  their  complaints  you  may  learn,t  tnat 
that  is  most  bitter  to  them,  which  to  us  appears  per- 
haps trivial  and  easy  to  be  borne.  Of  all  acts  of 
oppression  and  injustice,  which  foreigners  and  allies 
in  these  times  have  been  obliged  to  endure,  nothing 
has  been  more  hard  for  the  Grecians  to  bear,  than  this 
plundering  of  their  temples  and  cities  !" 

We  have  thus  far  endeavoured  to  consider  Greece 
from  all  the  points,  in  which  she  made  herself  glori- 
ous as  a  nation.  Who  is  it,  we  may  finally  ask,  that 
conferred  upon  her  her  immortality?  Was-  it  her 
generals  and  men  of  power  alone ;  or  was  it  equally  her 
sages,  her  poets,  and  her  artists  ?  The  voice  of  ages 
has  decided;  and  posterity  justly  places  the  images 
of  these  heroes  of  peace  by  the  side  of  those  of  the 
warriors  and  kings.! 

fellowship,  who,  like  the  divine  Raphael  and  Correggio,  in  the  moments  sa- 
cred to  mental  exertion,  raised  themselves  above  human  nature,  but  other- 
wise enjoyed  life  without  troubling  themselves  much  about  money.  Phidias 
for  all  his  masterpieces  did  not  receive  a  third  part  as  much  as  Gorgias  for 
his  declamations. 

*  Cicero  in  Verrem,  ii.  iv.  59.  t  Of  the  robberies  of  Verres. 

t  See  Visconti.  Inconographie  ancienne.  Paris  1811. 


344  CHAPTER  SIXTEENTH. 


CHAPTER  SIXTEENTH. 

CAUSES  OF  THE  FALL  OF  GREECE. 

THE  melancholy  task  of  explaining  the  causes 
which  led  to  the  fall  of  Greece,  has  already  been 
much  facilitated  by  the  preceding  investigations. 
Most  of  them  the  reader  will  now  be  able  to  mention 
of  himself ;  we  have  only  to  illustrate  them  somewhat 
more  at  large,  and  arrange  them  in  a  manner  to  ad- 
mit of  being  distinctly  comprehended  at  a  single  view. 

If  the  constitutions  of  the  individual  Grecian  states 
were  defective,  the  constitution  of  the  whole  Grecian 
system  was  still  more  so.  Though  geographically 
united,  they  cannot  be  said  to  have  formed  one  polit- 
ical system.  A  lasting  union  was  never  established 
between  the  Grecian  states ;  and  a  transitory  and 
very  imperfect  one  was  effected  only  in  times  of  dan- 
ger, as  in  the  Persian  wars. 

But  even  this  imperfect  union  was  productive 
of  important  results.  The  league  which  was 
then  established,  produced  the  idea  of  the  su- 
premacy of  an  individual  state.  It  has  already  been 
shown,  in  what  manner  Athens  managed  to  acquire 
this  rank,  and  in  what  manner  that  city  -turned  it  to 
advantage ;  but  we  have  also  shown,  that  a  par- 
tial supremacy  alone  existed,  embracing  only  the 
seaports  and  the  islands,  and  therefore  necessarily 
resting  for  its  support  on  the  dominion  of  the  seas 
on  each  side  of  Greece,  and  consequently  on  a 
navy. 


CAUSES  OF  THE  FALL  OF  GREECE.       345 

This  was  a  result  of  the  political  relations  and  the 
nature  of  the  league.  But  the  consciousness  of  supe- 
riority excited  those  who  were  possessed  of  it  to 
abuse  it ;  and  the  allies  began  to  be  oppressed. 
Athens,  having  once  established  its  greatness  on  this 
supremacy,  would  not  renounce  it  when  the  ancient 
motives  had  ceased  to  operate  after  the  peace  with 
the  Persians.  Individual  states  attempted  to  reclaim 
by  force  the  independence,  which  was  not  voluntari- 
ly conceded  to  them.  This  led  to  wars  with  them  5 
and  hence  the  dominion  of  the  sea  was  followed  by 
all  the  other  evils,  of  which  even  Isocrates  complains.* 

The  chief  reason  of  this  internal  division  did  not 
lie  merely  in  changing  political  relations,  but  more 
deeply  in  the  difference  of  the  tribes.  There  was  a 
chasm  between  the  Dorian  and  Ionian,  which  never 
could  be  filled  up;  a  voluntary  union  of  the  two 
for  any  length  of  time  was  impossible.  Several 
causes  may  be  mentioned,  as  having  contributed  to 
render  this  division  incurable.  The  tribes  were  di- 
vided geographically.  In  the  mother  country,  the 
Dorian  had  the  ascendency  in  the  Peloponnesus,  the 
Ionian  in  Attica,  Eubcea,  and  many  of  the  islands. 
Their  dialects  were  different ;  a  few  words  were 
sufficient  to  show  to  which  tribe  a  man  belonged. 
The  difference  in  manners  was  hardly  less  considera- 
ble, especially  with  relation  to  the  female  sex,  which 
among  the  Dorians  participated  in  public  life ; 
while  amongst  the  lonians  it  was  limited  to  the 
women's  apartments  within  the  houses.  And  the 
common  people  were  very  much  influenced  by  the 

*Isocra(.  de  Pace,  Op.  p.  176. 

44 


346  CHAPTER  SIXTEENTH. 

circumstance,  that  the  festivals  celebrated    by  the 
two,  were  not  the  same. 

But  the  division  was  made  politically  incurable 
by  the  circumstance,  that  Sparta  was,  or  at  least 
desired  to  be,  considered  the  head  of  the  whole  Doric 
tribe.  This  state,  both  in  its  public  and  private 
constitution,  was  in  almost  every  respect  the  opposite 
of  Athens.  As  the  laws  of  Lycurgus  alone  were 
valid  in  it,  the  other  Dorian  cities  did  by  no  means 
resemble  it ;  but  as  it  was  ambitious  of  being  their 
head,  its  influence  decided,  at  least  in  the  mother 
country.  But  that  influence  was  often  extended  to 
the  colonies ;  and  though  the  Persian  authority  may 
have  repressed  the  hatred  of  the  tribes  in  Asia  Minor, 
it  continued  with  the  greatest  acrimony  in  Sicily. 
In  the  war  of  the  Syracusans  against  the  Leontini, 
the  Dorian  cities  were  on  the  side  of  the  former ;  the 
Ionian  on  that  of  the  latter ;  and  the  cities  of  Lower 
Italy  in  their  choice  of  sides  were  influenced  by  the 
same  circumstance.* 

This  hatred,  preserved  and  inflamed  by  the  ambi- 
tion, common  to  both,  of  obtaining  the  supremacy  over 
Greece,  was  finally  followed  by  that  great  civil  war, 
which  we  are  accustomed  to  call  the  Peloponnesian. 
Of  nearly  equal  duration,  it  was  to  Greece  what  the 
thirty  years'  war  was  to  Germany  ;f  without  having 
been  terminated  by  a  similar  peace.  As  it  was  a 
revolutionary  war  in  the  true  sense  of  the  expression, 
it  had  all  the  consequences  attendant  on  such  a  war. 
The  spirit  of  faction  was  enabled  to  strike  such  deep 

»Thucyd.  iii.  86. 

t  It  lasted  from  the  year  431  till  the  year  404,  when  it  was  terminated  by 
the  taking  of  Athcrj?. 


CAUSES  Or  THE  FALL  OF  GREECE.       347 

root,  that  it  never  more  could  be  eradicated ;  and 
the  abuse  which  Sparta  made  of  her  forced  supremacy, 
was  fitted  to  supply  it  with  continual  nourishment. 
Who  has  described  this  with  more  truth  or  accuracy 
than  Thucydides?  "  By  this  war,"  says  he,*  "  all 
Hellas  was  set  in  motion  ;  for  on  all  sides  dissensions 
prevailed  between  the  popular  party  and  the  higher 
order.  The  former  desired  to  invite  the  Athenians  ; 
the  latter  the  Lacedemonians.  The  cities  were  shak- 
en by  sedition ;  and  where  this  broke  out  at  a  less 
early  period,  the  attempt  was  made  to  commit  greater 
excesses  than  any  which  had  elsewhere  taken  place. 
Even  the  significations  of  words  were  changed.  Mad 
rashness  was  called  disinterested  courage  ;  prudent 
delay  was  styled  timidity.  Whoever  was  violent, 
was  held  worthy  of  confidence  ;  whoever  opposed  him, 
was  suspected.  The  crafty  was  called  intelligent ; 
the  more  crafty,  still  more  intelligent.  In  short, 
praise  was  given  to  him  who  anticipated  another  in 
injustice ;  and  to  him  who  encouraged  to  crime  one 
who  had  never  thought  of  it." 

From  the  words  of  the  historian,  the  effect  of  these 
revolutions  on  morals  is  apparent ;  and  yet  no  states 
rested  so  much  on  morals  as  the  Grecian.  For  were 
they  not  communities  which  governed  themselves?  Did 
not  the  laws  enter  most  deeply  into  private  life  ?  and 
was  not  anarchy  a  necessary  consequence  of  the  moral 
corruption  ?  This  was  soon  felt  in  Athens.  Through- 
out the  whole  of  Aristophanes,  we  see  the  contrast 
between  the  better  times  that  were  gone  by.  and  the 
new,  in  all  parts  of  public  and  domestic  life;  in 

*Thncyd.  iii.  82.    We  have  selected  only  a  few  remarks  from  a  passage 
written  for  all  succeeding  centuries. 


348  CHAPTER  SIXTEENTH. 

poetry,  in  eloquence,  in  education,  in  the  courts  of 
justice,  &c.  ;  and  finally  in  a  celebrated  dialogue,  the 
ancient  and  the  modern  customs  are  introduced,  disput- 
ing upon  the  stage.*  And  who  can  read  the  orators 
without  being  astonished  at  the  incredible  corruption 
of  morals  ? 

This  leads  us  to  a  kindred  topic,  the  profanation 
of  the  popular  religion.  The  careful  student  of  the 
history  of  the  Grecian  nation  will  observe  this 
profanation  increase,  as  he  approaches  the  age  of 
Philip  ;  and  though  other  causes  may  have  had 
some  influence,  we  can  only  thus  explain  the  origin 
of  a  religious  war  like  the  Phocian.  The  causes 
which  produced  the  decay  of  the  popular  religion, 
may  for  the  most  part  be  found  in  a  former  chap- 
ter. It  would  be  useless  to  attempt  to  deny,  that 
the  speculations  of  the  philosophers  had  a  great  share 
in  it  ;  although  the  better  part  of  them  were  strenu- 
ous to  prevent  such  a  result.  Aristophanes  was 
certainly  unjust  in  attributing  such  designs  to  Socra- 
tes, but  he  was  right  in  attributing  it  to  philosophy 
in  general.  The  question  now  arises  :  On  which 
side  lies  the  blame  ?  On  that  of  philosophy,  or  of 
the  popular  religion  ?  It  is  not  difficult  to  answer  this 
question  after  what  we  have  already  remarked!  of 
the  latter.  A  nation  with  a  religion  like  that  of  the 
Greeks,  must  either  refrain  from  philosophical  inqui- 
ries, or  learn  from  philosophy  that  its  religion  is 
unfounded.  This  result  cannot  be  urged  against  the 
philosophers  as  a  crime,  but  only  a  want  of  pru- 
dence, of  which  they  were  guilty  in  promulgating 


*  The  \»yts  I'txtuts  and  <&*»;  in  the  Clouds. 
t  See  the  third  chapter. 


CAUSES  OF  THE  FALL  OF  GREECE.       349 

their  positions*  The  care  taken  by  the  best  of 
them  in  this  respect,  has  already  been  mentioned  ; 
and  that  the  state  was  not  indifferent  to  the  practice 
of  the  rest,  is  proved  by  the  punishments  which  were 
inflicted  on  many  of  them.  But  though  the  systems 
of  the  philosophers  were  restricted  to  the  schools,  a 
multitude  of  philosophic  views  were  extendedy  which 
to  a  certain  degree  were  adopted  by  the  common 
people.  In  Athens,  the  comedians  contributed  to 
this  end  ;  for  whether  with  or  without  design,  they 
extended  the  doctrines  which  they  ridiculed. 

The  most  melancholy  proof  of  the  decay  of  reli- 
gious feeling,  is  found  in  the  Phocian  war  and  the 
manner  in  which  that  war  was^  conducted.  In  the 
time  of  Thucydides,  Delphi  and  its  oracle  were  still 
revered  ;*  although  the  Spartans  began  even  then 
to  doubt  its  claims  to  confidence.!  When  all 
the  former  relations  of  the  states  were  dissolved  by 
the  Peloponnesian  war  and  its  consequences,  those 
toward  the  gods  were  also  destroyed  ;  and  the  crimes 
committed  against  them,  brought  on  their  own  punish- 
ment in  a  new  civil  war  and  the  downfall  of  liberty. 
The  treasures  stolen  from,  Delphi,  with  which  the 
war  was  carried  on,  suddenly  increased  the  mass  of 
species  current  in  Greece  to  an  unheard  of  degree ; 
but  increased  in  an  equal  degree  luxury  and  the 
wants  of  life.J  And  if  any  portion  of  the  ancient 
spirit  remained,  it  was  destroyed  by  the  custom  of 
employing  mercenary  soldiers,  a  custom,  which  be- 
came every  day  more  common,  and  gave  a  deadly  chill 
to  valour  and  patriotism. 

*  Thacyd.  v.  32.  t  Thucyd.  v.  16. 

t  See  a  leading  passage  on  this  topic,  in  Athen.  iv.  p.  231. 


350  CHAPTER  SIXTEENTH. 

Thus  the  evils  of  which  the  superior  policy  of  a 
neighbour  knew  how  to  take  advantage,  were  the 
result  of  defects  in  the  political  constitution ;  in  that 
very  constitution,  but  for  which  those  glorious  fruits, 
which  were  borne  by  the  tree  of  Grecian  liberty, 
never  could  have  ripened.  But  amidst  all  the  disor- 
der, and  all  the  losses,  not  every  thing  perished. 
The  national  spirit,  though  it  could  hardly  have  been 
expected,  still  remained,  and  with  it  the  hope  of  bet- 
ter times.  Amidst  all  their  wars  with  one  another, 
the  Greeks  never  ceased  to  consider  themselves  as  one 
nation.  The  idea  of  one  day  assuming  that  character 
animated  the  best  of  them.  It  is  an  idea  which  is 
expressed  in  almost  $very  one  of  the  writings  of  the 
pure  Isocrates  ;*  and  which  he  could  not  survive, 
when  after  the  battle  of  Chaeronea,  the  spirit  of  the 
eloquent  old  man  voluntarily  escaped  from  its  earthly 
veil,  beneath  which  it  had  passed  a  hundred  years. 
Yet  the  echo  of  his  wishes,  his  prayers,  and  his 
instructions  did  not  die  away.  Still  the  last  of  the 
Greeks  had  not  yet  appeared  ;  and  the  times  were  to 
come,  when,  in  the  Achaean  league,  the  splendid  day 
of  the  greatness  of  Hellas  was  to  be  followed  by  a  still 
more  splendid  evening.  So  certain  is  it,  that  a  nation 
is  never  deserted  by  destiny,  so  long  as  it  does  not 
desert  itself. 

*  See  especially  Panathen.  Op.  236. 


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